Summary: Eli Prowse fell in love with a beautiful young girl, but she chose to marry Ben and ‘live happily ever afterwards.’ Years have passed and Eli has journeyed to the Ponderosa to destroy those whom he holds responsible for Elizabeth’s death … Ben, and her son, Adam.

Rated: T (74,980 words)

The final page contains comments/reviews from the Old BonanzaBrand Library.

 

Stone Roses

He stood poised, a dark silhouette against the summer sky. His toes curled against the edge of the rock upon which he stood, he raised his arms, leaned slightly forwards, dived. As elegantly graceful as a body could be the youth straightened from the curve of his dive, appeared to lengthen and then struck the water with a precision that was evidence of much practice.

He plunged downwards and the dark waters covered him over leaving only ripples as witness to his passing. Beneath the troubled surface he began to swim upwards, curving his body once again against the pressure of the waters, propelling with his feet and curving away water with his hands and arms so that within seconds his head broke the surface and he could turn languidly content to swim arm over arm towards the bank.

He rose to his feet as soon as he hit the shallows and walked towards where he had left his clothes. The heat of the day now shimmered about him and bathed him with warm caresses so that he stood still, closed his eyes and enjoyed the moment. Not a breath of air to disturb the closeness of heats embrace. His skin prickled as water dried naturally upon it, gleaming drops of water sucked dry upon a golden tanned body. Then he shook his head and water sprayed like a plume of diamonds that caught the suns rays before they were swallowed up into nothingness.

As he picked up his shirt he glanced over his shoulder at the lake and allowed a small smile to touch his mouth. This was one of his favourite places, the secret place he preferred above any other, secret even from his brothers. He looked up at the sky now and searched its blueness for the sun and then frowned slightly. Time ticked on, and he had to be home soon. It would mean pushing his horse somewhat, but after such a good hour of swimming and diving it would be good to feel the cool wind against his face as he made the way home now. He shrugged himself into his shirt and began to button it up slowly as though he had far more on his mind than just how successful his diving had been that day.

His hair was still wet when he placed his hat upon it, it curled upon the nape of his neck and over his ears, blacker than actuality and curlier than he liked due to the dampness of it. It curled over his collar and he felt the dampness penetrating the material of his shirt. It didn’t matter, it would dry and with wide strides he made his way to his horse.

The animal twitched his ears and raised its head to survey its master. He had been enjoying the sweetness of the damper grass here and knew now that his pleasure was ended. He waited as his master approached him and untethered the reins,

“Good boy,” the youth said softly, “Good boy. Any more of that grass and you’d be getting colic. See? Aren’t I a good master to spare you indigestion?” and he grinned as he slipped into the saddle and turned the horse in the direction of home.

…………….

The man on the black horse sat in the saddle as though he were made of rock. Only his eyes shifted back and forth as they followed the progress of the youth with a scrutiny that indicated just how much interest he had in him. Once only did he move and that was to rest his hand on the scabbard of his rifle, and to stroke the leather with an affection that was tantamount to pleasure.

Eli Prowse was a thin man, his eyes were narrow like a reptiles. Any one seeing him for the first time would feel a shiver creep down his back and assume that there was something evil about him. First impressions were not to be ignored. They had every instinctive right to indulge such an assumption. Eli Prowse looked just exactly what he was – cruel, cold, evil.

As the horse and rider disappeared from view he turned his horse away from the edge of the rim rock and steered it slowly, thoughtfully, through the boulders. Just once he raised a gloved hand to touch, very lightly, a scar that tracked across his face, from under his left eye across his nose and right cheek to his jaw line. The expression on his face didn’t change and the narrow eyes remained cold and dark.

Another rider was waiting for his descent and glanced up to watch Eli as he rode towards him. He was also thin, younger than Eli, but with the same narrow eyes. He was handsomer, with a mouth inclined to smile and cheeks that dimpled. He gave the impression that he could care about people. Being a brother to Eli Prowse would make a person wise not to indulge such a fanciful notion. Jude Prowse enjoyed pain – when he could inflict it on others.

“Well?” he raised his eyebrows questioningly and a slight smile touched his mouth when Eli gave him a curt nod of the head.

“We’re not far now,” Eli muttered through thin lips that seldom smiled, “the old man was right. We’re on Ponderosa land now. The ranch house is close by, I just saw the kid ride off at a fair lick, no doubt to get home in time for supper.” he glanced up at the sky to judge the time and nodded, “Let’s get to the camp.”

Jude pursed his lips. Mention of the old man reminded him of what they had done to the aging prospector who had panned for gold along the Washoe in solitary safety for sufficient years to be fool hardy enough to trust any man that rode by. Jude allowed himself a contemplative smile. Perhaps on the way back they would just check the prospectors workings and see what he had stashed away in his cabin. The old fool had been too trusting, talked too freely and had paid the price. Thankfully for him he had a weak heart which had spared him far more pain than he had already experienced at his tormentor’s hands.

The brothers rode along in silence for some while as both thought over what was planned, what had been long planned. Eventually Jude broke the silence,

“What was he like then, this kid?” he enquired without looking at his brother but staring straight ahead.

“Oh, tall and thin, like most kids of his age. Like you was when you were 15 or thereabouts.” Eli replied without a hint of warmth in his voice at mention of a time of a more innocent age.

“So he’s the eldest, huh?”

“If the old man told us the truth. There won’t be any trouble, Jude. It’ll be easy as winking.”

“I ain’t worried about no trouble.” Jude spat into the dust as though his brothers words disgusted him, “You should know that by now.”

“I know it.” came the cold reply.

They continued onwards without speaking, each deep in their own thoughts. Then Jude glanced over at his brother and smiled very slowly, before turning to look once again straight ahead,

“Of course, he’d be Elizabeth Stoddard’s boy, ain’t that right?”

From the corner of his eye he saw the faint flush on his brother’s face, but Eli said nothing except to nod briefly.

“She died when he was born, ain’t it so?” Jude pressed on, as though he had tapped into his brother’s most vulnerable parts and could not resist applying more pressure simply for the fun of it.

“So’s I heard,” Eli answered closing his mouth as firmly as a bear trap and then spurring his horse into a faster gallop as though to put his brother and memories far behind him.

Jude’s face eased into one of his familiar smiles. So, he told himself, this was really what it was all about after all? Fifteen, no, more like eighteen years of pent up fury about to be released. He shrugged, what did it matter to him anyway so long as he was there.

Chapter 3

Marie Cartwright carefully drew the apple pie from the stove and looked at it thoughtfully before taking it over to set down upon the table, all the while looking down at the golden crust as though, in some way, it was the cause of intense displeasure rather than pride. The man behind her came and looked at it before nodding approval,

“Pie is good, Missy.”

“Thank you, Hop Sing.” she smiled and looked at her mentor who smiled and nodded his round head with pleasure, “You don’t think it’s a little over cooked?”

Hop Sing shook his head and patted her arm reassuringly. Why, he wondered, as he returned to his task of clearing away the debris of an apple pie marathon, did the lady strive so hard for perfection. Every apple pie was different but delicious. Why could she not realise that now. Of course, he mused as he raised his eye brows, she had still a long way to go before she could beat his for they were always perfection.

To think, when she had arrived at the Ponderosa all those years ago, she had not even known how to peel a potato let alone cook it. A lady who had been indulged by servants and cooks, restaurants and eateries. He shook his head and smiled to himself. Some of their cooking lessons had been very funny, very funny indeed.

Marie wiped her hands down her apron and began to hum a tune beneath her breath. She turned now to pick up a jug of cream when her attention was caught by some movement by the door. She turned and with a smile acknowledged the two little boys standing framed in the doorway.

“Where have you two been? Joseph, you have straw sticking in your hair.”

“I bin in the stable.” Little Joe Cartwright replied groping for the straw and upon finding it pulling it out, “I bin ‘elping ‘Oss.”

“I hope you were. Was he, Hoss?” she turned to the older boy who smiled and nodded,

“Sure was, Mom,” he grinned and stepped into the hallowed ground of Hop Sing’s kitchen, “Something sure smells good. Is that your apple pie, Ma?”

“It is,” Marie straightened her shoulders and smiled, “I’ve just got to dredge it with some sugar…”

“Puts lots on, Ma, won’t you?” Hoss interrupted with a wide grin on his face.

“Put lots on, Ma.” echoed the little boy standing beside him, “and cream.”

“Go away now, both of you. Clean your hands and wash your faces. Pa will be home any minute and won’t want to see two ruffians like you hanging around the house. Go on, shoo.”

“Ma, when you gonna make some more shoo-fly pie?” Hoss asked as he turned back into the main room, “I sure did like that.”

“Hoss Cartwright, what don’t you like?” Marie laughed, and when the answer ‘Cheese’ floated back to her she laughed even more.

The sound of a horse approaching the ranch could be heard from the kitchen and Marie looked at Hop Sing, pulled away her apron and hurried into the other room. Now she was in her own domain, for she respected the kitchen – with quiet gratitude – as Hop Sing’s territory, but everywhere else in the house she reigned as Queen. She could hear the clatter of little feet on the landing and the slamming of doors, shrill voices raised in argument and settled by giggles followed her as she hurried to get to the door.

Her hand was about to reach for the handle when it was pushed open and a tall dark haired man came into the room. He appeared deep in thought but upon seeing her his face relaxed into a wide smile, his dark eyes sparkled and he held out his arms to receive his welcome home,

“How’s my darling girl?” he asked and buried his face into the nape of her neck, smelling her perfume and the sweet smell of her hair.

“Glad to see you home. Was everything alright, Ben?” she stepped back to survey him anxiously and smiled at his answering nod, “So there were no problems at all?”

“None whatsoever. The land deeds are here -” he held up a satchel as he spoke, “all signed and sealed. It’s good timber land, my dear, and worth every dime.”

She placed her hand on his arm while she led him into the main room, together they sat down, side by side on the settee,

“What was Frobisher’s reaction? Was he surprised when you gave him the money?”

“Shocked more like,” Ben laughed, “But he’s a fair man. He admitted that he hadn’t expected me to come up with the funds. He wanted Judd Murphy to get the land, thought it was more practical, but Murphy didn’t arrive until some time later and even then he didn’t have the total amount required. I couldn’t believe how well everything went.”

“And Adam? Where is he?”

“Isn’t he here yet? The scamp! He said he was riding on ahead of me.” there was a slight hesitation in his voice, a darkening of the face as though a cloud of foreboding has settled above them, but it cleared immediately as he turned to his wife, “He’ll be alright, no doubt stopped off somewhere to read his new book. That boy gets to be more of a book worm than ever since Will Cass has succeeded in getting a supplier back East to send a regular delivery.”

Marie leaned back against the arm of the settee to survey her husband. What a wonderful few years they had enjoyed together. Nothing in her whole life had given her greater sense of completion and contentment. It had been hard work, and it had certainly been a steep learning curve but every day she thanked God for the blessings she had for she knew they were many.

How she loved Ben. She had never known a man like him, so brave and resolute, unafraid of anything or anyone. She basked in the warmth of his love as happily as a child, knowing that whatever happened he would always be there, her protector, her lover, her husband.

“Have the boys been good?” Ben leaned forward and took her hand in his, quite unselfconsciously he kissed her fingers, and then held her captured hand against his heart.

“They have been very good.” she laughed, forgetting now her anger at them for spilling the flour in the kitchen, locking themselves in the dry cellar, and having the occasional squabble that had ended in tears and bumps.

What could one say? They were only little boys and they were happy together, healthy and strong. Everything was just perfect. Even her apple pie, and she laughed a little softly to herself for she had her own little secret that she was waiting to tell Ben, at the right time.

“Are we going to wait for Adam?” Ben asked looking sorrowfully at his wife, “It’s been a long ride and I could eat a bear.”

“Oh, but he’s not late. Not yet.” she retrieved her hand and got to her feet, “Rest awhile and I’ll get you some coffee. You’ll feel better after you have had some.” her fingers trailed lightly across his shoulders and he caught them, kissed them and released them, so that she could make her way to the kitchen and prepare the coffee.

“Pa.” Hoss appeared on the half landing, his face alight with pleasure at the sight of his father.

“Pa.” Little Joe squeezed himself in from behind his brother and shoved him away as though he was the only one to have the right to reach father first.

There was a little tussle between them before they both scampered down the stairs making Ben wonder what was more important to them, seeing him or getting to him first. It was Joe who succeeded in clambering into his father’s broad lap first, He cast a triumphant smile at his brother and threw his arms around his father’s neck

“I missed you, Pa.” he cried and hugged the man tightly.

“So did I, Pa.” Hoss exclaimed struggling to get close as Joe made sure that he had sole possession of his father’s lap.

Ben extended his arm and drew the older boy towards him,

“Ma says you’ve both been good boys, so go and see what you can find in my pocket.” he released them as they wriggled away whooping with shrill delight at the excitement of the treat, which was a rare thing in their lives for the settlement was still small, rather primitive, and getting things to Cass’ little store cost money in shipping and travel expenses.

“I hope it isn’t candy,” Marie said with raised eyebrows, “it will soon be time to eat supper and it won’t be fair if they spoil their appetites.”

“You worry too much. Let them enjoy it while they can, after all, it isn’t often.”

He drew her back into his embrace, his arm about her shoulder while his cheek rested upon her curls. The sounds of the two children faded into the background as he closed his eyes and thought of himself as the most truly blessed man in the whole world.

Chapter 4

The thin spiral of smoke from a camp fire caught the youth’s attention as he made his way home. For a moment he was tempted to ignore it, but the reminder of the trouble caused by previous squatters came to mind and he turned his horse’s head in the direction of the camp and slowed him down to a walk. When he was at a discreet distance he dismounted and crept stealthily towards where he could see a small group of people gathered around the fire.

A rabbit was cooking on a makeshift spit, and the melting grease from its body was splattering and spitting into the flames. An elderly man was pouring coffee into a mug, half bent over the fire, while a younger man leaned against the wagon which was close by and obscured Adam from their view. Two other men were sprawled near at hand, playing a game of checkers by using a log as a table upon which they balanced the board. Rifles were propped against the wagons wheels, and each of the men carried guns in their holsters. To a youth of Adam’s experience it was quite clear they were not the homesteading kind of men.

The youth crept closer, taking off his hat in order to get a clearer view. Very carefully he moved aside the fronds of ferns and grasses, and the light branches of shrubss that obscured his vision as he inched himself closer. He could hear the mumble of voices now, so flattened himself lower to the ground in the hope of better merging into the undergrowth. He was just a few feet away from the wagon when a man rode into the camp and dismounted, tethered his horse and walked towards the fire.

Adam instinctively felt for his gun. The newcomer was not unknown to him but what aroused his suspicions was that he was not unknown to the others either and had greeted them with a certain amount of familiarity which bespoke more than just a casual acquaintance. Very carefully Adam sidled across the ground, closer to the wagon and hopefully better able to overhear what was being said.

The old man had passed the mug of coffee he had earlier poured out to the newcomer, who had taken it without thanks but had gulped it back quickly, before tossing the mug down.

“Where’s Eli and Jude?” he looked over his shoulder as he asked the question as though expecting the two men in question to appear right behind him.

“Out, looking around, finding things out.”

“What’s to find out? I told ya I’d get the information for you. Don’t you trust me?”

“Eli don’t trust no one, you should know that by now.”

The other man merely shrugged but his face had darkened and his lips thinned. Adam had now reached the wagon and was crouched by the nearside wheel, out of sight of the campers but now better able to see everyone in the camp quite clearly.

The man who had been leaning against the wagon had moved to the centre of the camp and was watching the two men playing checkers. He was now facing the fire and the two men who still stood there, so Adam could easily tell that despite the apparent interest in the game this man was more interested in the newcomer and what he had to say.

Donald Stanley was the man’s name and he had worked on the Ponderosa for several months now. Adam knew him as a hard worker and a quiet man who enjoyed reading. They had even spent time together repairing fences some while back and discussed the merits of William Shakespeare’s Othello. Now here he was in the middle of a strange encampment looking ill at ease and nervous. What, Adam wondered, would such a man be doing here? Glancing about him Adam decided to inch himself a little closer by rolling beneath the wagon so that he could peer through the wheel and into the camp.

Donald Stanley seemed to be finding the camp of some interest too, for his eyes were flicking from corner to corner, scanning the other men there before returning to the old man,

“How many men have you got here?”

“Eight, counting Eli and Jude.”

“Eight?” Donald frowned and pursed his lips thoughtfully, “Do you reckon on that being enough?”

“I ain’t in charge of this outfit,” the old man said in a disgruntled tone of voice, “Eli’s running this show. Anyhows, with you here now it makes the total up to nine.”

“I thought I was going to go back to the Ponderosa. You’ll need a man there, that’s what Eli said.”

The old man shrugged as though it meant nothing to him and he leaned down to pick up the discarded mug and into this he poured the dark coffee. He straightened his back and turned towards the other men,

“Reckon you knows these three lads?” he indicated the checker players and onlooker who nodded over to Donald but showed little other interest in him, “Dave, Pete and Hank Mathews.”

“Sure, I know ‘em.” Donald nodded, and shrugged his shoulders, showing as little interest in the three men as they had shown him.

“They’re brothers, you went to school with ‘em, if I recall.”

“I ain’t forgotten.” Donald replied.

“The other two are standing guard. Tim and Harry Jackson.”

Donald nodded, remembering the Jackson brothers. It was turning into a real family affair for the Matthews and Jacksons were related to the Prowse brothers, just as he was himself, a cousin no less. He stroked his chin thoughtfully, and looked over at the Matthew brothers before turning to the old man,

“I oughta to getting back. Tell Eli and Jude I came as arranged but I can’t afford to make Ben Cartwright suspicious by not being there.”

“Huh, do you think a man like Ben Cartwright would notice whether you were missing or not?” the old man laughed, a shout of a laugh that held no mirth, just emphasised the statement made, “unless you’re living in the house itself, of course. You ain’t some kind of house guest, are ya?” and again there was the shout of a laugh accompanied this time by a slap on Donald’s broad back, “Here, sit down, Donald, you look as nervy as a new born colt.”

There was a barrel and some other camping equipment close by and upon this Donald sat. Once again his eyes roamed nervously around the camp before settling back on the old man who was drinking the coffee in noisy gulps.

“So then, Jack, what brought you to ride along with the boys?” he asked although in such a tone that it was obvious he had little interest in the answer.

“I was asked along. After all I am Eli’s Uncle.” Jack stretched his lean back and he smiled, “Or had you forgotten? Yeah, this has been a real family affair, ain’t it? You can rely on family, you know. Can’t rely on strangers so much, no matter how much you promise to pay ‘em. Family is blood, and that’s what counts. Mind you, I hear tell Ben Cartwright has lots of gold stashed away so looks like we should all do quite well out of this.”

Donald said nothing to that, although his lip curled rather as though in disgust. He stood up,

“I’ll get back. Tell Eli -”

“What?” Jack was close behind him, his hand despite being swollen at the knuckles with rheumatism had moved to his gun handle with surprising swiftness, and the checker players had turned with bodies alert and tense.

“Tell Eli I’ve got the information he wanted. I’ll ride into camp tonight and tell him.”

“You’ll stay right here, boy.” Jack’s eyes narrowed and he scowled heavily at Donald, his hand still resting on the handle of his gun, “Seems you’re mighty eager to be getting back to the Cartwright place. You ain’t chickening out on this deal, are ya?”

“No.” the denial lacked conviction, even Adam could sense that as he watched and listened from his hiding place.

“You Stanleys always was the lily livered bunch in the family. Got yourself too involved with some better than yourselves that’s what did it. Emily Stanley was -.”

“Leave my mother out of this.” Donald turned sharply, his face reddening, “Just leave it, Jack.”

The old man stared coldly back, there was no denying the relationship between him and the Prowse brothers when his eyes went so cold and Donald swallowed spit and stepped back a pace or two.

“Right, just you stay put right there, Donald Stanley. You wait until Eli gets back, you hear now?”

Adam licked his lips and wished he could inch just a little closer. By what he had heard there were two men he had been unable to locate and he was well aware that his hiding place was not the most effective. The man who had been standing originally by the wagon began to stroll back. Carefully Adam inched his way into the shadows near by while his heart was beating faster than usual and he was finding it difficult to breathe properly. He stopped and froze on the spot as the man by the wagon walked to the tailgate and stood still, as though he had heard something that called for investigating.

“Hey, Harry -”

Adam prayed that somehow their eyes would not stray in his direction, he was openly exposed and unable to move although he hugged himself down to the ground as level as he possibly could. A stout man approached the man by the wagon, and raised a hand

“Hank, anything to report?”

“Donald’s here.” Hank jerked his thumb in the direction of the camp fire where Jack and Donald were still standing, “I somehow get the feeling he ain’t too pleased to have family around.”

“He jest needs a thrashin’ like we used to give him when we were kids.” Harry replied and walked with his cousin into the camp.

Adam sagged with relief and quickly sidled backwards into the undergrowth. The dark shadows of the plants and shrubs covered him over and he took a deep long intake of breath.

He could hear horsemen approaching now, the hoof beats were muffled but close-by. He hugged his elbows into his body and prepared to wait and watch.

Chapter 5

Stanley tensed as soon as he saw Eli and Jude dismount. There was no doubting the fact that the two men terrified him although he squared his shoulders and straightened his back in an attempt to appear uncowed by their appearance.

The brothers walked towards the fire and were handed a mug of coffee immediately by Jack who then stepped back away from them, as though acknowledging that the main players were now to have centre stage and he was no longer required.

“You managed to get here then?” Jude muttered in such a low voice that Adam could barely hear him and had to crane his head forwards to catch the words.

“I’m here, ain’t I?” Stanley replied and pulled some paper from his vest pocket which he held out towards them, “These are the plans of the house and outbuildings. Mrs Cartwright and the cook are usually at the house most days, with the two young uns. Ben Cartwright and his eldest boy work the day through, usually returning for supper.”

It was Eli who held the paper in his free hand and glanced over it as he sipped at the coffee. After a second or two he passed it over to Jude,

“How many men does he have around the place?” Eli asked although he looked casually down at the ground as though it was of no real consequence.

“Right now?” Donald shrugged, “They’re mostly up in the timberlands and mountains. He’s been concentrating up there lately. Would take some time to get to them and they ain’t close to the ranch to hear nothing happening there. He’s laid off some men too, so there’s only a handful of men at the bunkhouse.”

“Are they likely to cause trouble?” Jude asked softly and regarded his cousin thoughtfully as though he rather doubted the truthfulness of anything he would say anyway.

“They won’t cause any trouble,” Donald Stanley replied with a thinning of the lips, “But they won’t hesitate to jump into action if they hear anything happening at the house. They’re good men and loyal to the Cartwrights.”

Eli and Jude looked at one another before turning their attention back to Donald. Eli shrugged

“What about you, Donald? Are you loyal to the Cartwrights?”

“I brought the information you wanted, didn’t I?” the response was brusque, accompanied by a proud toss of the head.

“So you did.” Jude smiled coldly, “Now, why not relax some and sit down awhile. We oughta be thinking of getting ourselves some supper. Then we’ll talk over our plans.”

Donald Stanley didn’t move but remained as though deep in thought while Jack and Hank began to organise some food for the expected supper.

“I should be getting back. I don’t want them to start getting suspicious.” Donald muttered, taking a step away from the fire but arrested from further movement by a hand pressed against his chest.

“Why should they get suspicious because you ain’t there, Donald? You got something more to say about the Cartwrights then you’re letting on?”

“Such as?” Donald snapped back pushing the hand away only to find Jude’s fingers tight around his wrist, “Just let me go, Jude, before …”

“I don’t mind what you do, cousin. Just go right ahead and do whatever you feel you want to do. The Cartwrights ain’t going to miss you so it hardly matters one way or another, does it?”

“The men in the bunkhouse will wonder where I’ve got to.” Donald spoke the words as though on a sigh, as though any resolve he had possessed was now trickling away like water from a leaking bucket.

“Oh just shut up and sit down,” Eli snapped as though he had had enough of words, and with a push of the hand he sent Donald several paces backwards so that the man barely saved himself from falling over the log upon which he had been previously seated.

Adam released his breath and bowed his head as though he also had the strength dwindling away from him. He had not realised he had been holding his breath for so long until his throat began to ache. He raised his head again and watched the men for another moment before slowly pushing himself backwards very slowly through the tangle of undergrowth. He remained flat on his belly, using his knees and elbows to push himself away from the campsite and towards his horse.

He froze and stopped breathing when something rustled nearby. Hugging the ground close he tried to make himself as small and insignificant as he possibly could, holding his breath, tensing his muscles and praying that whatever had caused the noise would soon move on. Seconds ticked by and he could feel the sweat breaking out under his armpits and down his back. He swallowed hard, stifled the desire to cough and waited.

Nothing happened. The stillness was once again complete. The murmur of voices from the campsite was just that, a soft murmur. A mug rattled against the side of the coffee pot as it was set down on the logs. Adam clamped his teeth together and clenched his fists. He began to move once again, very slowly, very slowly.

A hand grabbed his foot by the ankle and another hand chopped down on his wrist as he instinctively moved to pull out his gun. The reflex reaction made his fingers jerk wide and totally numbed the feeling in his own hand. Even as he tried to writhe his foot free his opponents free hand grabbed him by his hair and yanked him from the undergrowth. His foot was free now but it served no purpose whether it was or not for the man who had grabbed him had hauled him upright, shaken him thoroughly like a dog shakes a rabbit and then punched him heartily in the stomach so that the boy was doubled over in pain and was thrown upon his knees with barely a gasp.

When Tim Jackson hauled his captive into the camp every man there sprung alert. Tim hauled Adam towards the fire before slinging him down at Eli’s feet as though he were of no more importance than a pile of logs for the evening fire.

Donald Stanley barely managed to stop himself from going to the boys assistance but the action was noted for future reference by Eli and Jude. They pushed their cousin back towards where Jack and Henry were standing. It was Eli who squatted down and grabbed Adam by the forelock, raising his face upwards for him to look upon.

“Well, well,” he muttered slowly, “If it isn’t Elizabeth’s boy.

Chapter 6

Throughout his short life Adam had met many different kinds of men. Travelling through the newly discovered world that was opening up to the white men the fact had to be faced that many of the pioneers on the voyage of discovery were men such as the ones he now faced. So it was not so much the appearance of the men that caused a cold shiver down his back but the words that Eli Prowse had spoken. An acknowledgement of who he was … Elizabeth’s son.

He struggled to his knees and took a deep breath before casting his eyes upwards to look at his antagonists squarely in the face. Eli didn’t move but watched the boy with his cold reptilian eyes boring into the eyes that glared into his own.

No one moved. It was as though they were all frozen into this small tableau of players and each one waiting for the cue to speak and to act. Adam broke the deadlock of dagger drawn glares by turning to look reproachfully at Donald Stanley who could only cast his head down in order to avoid him.

“Well now,” Eli stepped forward, seized hold of a fistful of Adam’s hair and yanked his head upwards so that the fading daylight fell fully upon the youthful features, “Let’s take a good look at you, Elizabeth’s boy.”

Adam clamped his mouth tight, and struggled to free himself from the fierce grip on the dark hair. Although his heart was beating so fast that he thought it would gallop right through his chest he was surprised at how calm he actually felt, as though mentally his brain was already turning off the emotions and switching onto the logistics of the situation. This, he knew from past experiences, was the only way one could get out of situations like this for the folly of allowing emotions to dictate the outcome of any event had become obvious to his young eyes by the number of bullet ridden bodies they had come across on their journeys.

Eli released him and with a jerk of the head at Jack indicated that the boy be given something to drink. He pointed to the barrel upon which Adam was forced to sit by the redoubtable Tim.

“Well, I never thought I would ever meet up with you like this,” Eli muttered, passing a forefinger slowly, thoughtfully, over his lips, “I’d imagined a completely different scenario. What were you doing here, huh? Spying on us, were you?”

“You’re on Ponderosa land.” Adam replied coldly but with that ring of pride he always felt when saying the words for it was a declaration to any stranger that this land, Ponderosa land, was the fulfilment of his father’s dreams and the end product of much blood, sweat and tears. “You’re squatters. I saw your fire and came to see what was going on.”

“Then overheard some things you wish you hadn’t?” Eli took the mug of coffee from Jack and passed it over to Adam who hesitated a moment before taking it from his captor’s hand, “Mmm, the thing is now you’re here what do we do with you?”

“Why not just shoot him,” Jude suggested, stepping forward with his hand resting lightly on his gun butt, “A neat bullet hole between the eyes won’t do too much damage to his pretty face.”

“No -” Donald protested, stepping between Jude and Eli, “No, you can’t do that.”

“Don’t be so soft,” Eli sneered, “Of course we can do that, as you well know.” he gave his cousin a cold look before returning to look at Adam, “If it suited me, which it doesn’t, not just yet anyway.”

Adam glanced down at the ground with the mug of coffee still in his hands. His mind pursued several avenues of action and discarded them just as quickly. He looked up and surveyed Donald Stanley from beneath long dark lashes, before he resumed his study of the ground at their feet.

Donald Stanley was obviously the weak link in the chain, and Adam knew that every man there knew that, including Donald. The man was perspiring freely and his breathing was more rapid than normal, but he was forcing himself to remain calm. It was a hard balancing act for the man had spent a life time of living in fear of his cousins, every single one of them.

“I think we’ll have to change our plans,” Eli said suddenly, “His turning up here changes things.”

“We could get Donald to ride in with a ransom note.” Jude said slowly, “Ben Cartwright wouldn’t want to see his eldest riding home slung over the saddle with a bullet in the head, would he?”

Eli brushed the suggestion to one side as irrelevant by a mere casual wave of the hand.. He shook his head,

“No, that would be too easy. I want to see Ben Cartwright’s pain not just imagine it. I want to see how he’ll react to knowing how much control I have over him and his family. I don’t want to be here wondering what he’s thinking and feeling. I want to be right there, watching his face, seeing him sweat.” he stepped closer to Adam, “Drink your coffee, boy, before it gets cold. Jack, Henry, get on with something to eat. We’ve things to do and I need to think.”

He grabbed hold of Adam by the elbow now, forcing him to stand. His eyes raked the lad up and down, noting how tall he was, how strong and healthy. He even allowed a small smile of something like emotion to flit across his sallow features leaving Adam wondering just exactly what connection the man could possibly have had with his mother.

“Over there -” Eli pointed towards the wagon, “I want to talk to you, boy.”

Adam pulled his arm free and walked in the direction of the wagon, the mug of coffee he still held in his hands and he sipped it slowly as he walked along, as though in some way it would delay the inevitable, whatever that inevitable happened to be.

Donald Stanley watched them, then turned to follow and join them at the wagon, but Eli turned and with one sneering contemptuous look at the man brought him to a standstill. Sullenly Donald returned to the area where the cousins were busy preparing a make shift meal.

By the wagons wheel was a blanket and it was upon this that Adam was made to sit down. Eli watched him with a slight frown on his brow, his arms folded across his chest. He leaned against the wagon and once again observed the youth who drank his coffee and then placed the empty mug down on the ground.

“You ain’t afraid of me, are you, boy?” and if there was a slight tone of reproach or surprise in his voice there was no one to hear it, except Adam.

Adam raised his head and looked at the man with the cicatrice a livid sign of the life the man had led. The dark eyes of the youth surveyed Eli steadily, the finely curved lips parted only to reply

“No. Should I be?”

“How old are you now?”

“Fifteen.”

“Your father remarried I hear?”

“Yes.”

“And you have brothers?”

“Yes.”

“You never knew your mother, did you?” Eli lowered his head as though to observe Adam’s reaction to the question but it was one that had often been asked or referred to the youth so it held no surprises. Adam merely shook his head.

“What about old Abel Stoddard? Did you ever get to meet him?”

“Yes.”

“So he’s still alive?” Eli’s voice hardened a little, became slightly more brittle. Adam looked up to observe him and saw the hate burn in the cold eyes, bringing a heat and a passion to them that was almost more fearsome that their usual appearance.

“My grandfather died last year.” Adam replied in a rather aloof manner and he saw the depth of feeling in Eli’s eyes dwindle until it was snuffed out completely and a look of smug satisfaction replaced it.

“I don’t know what to do with you, boy. What are you called?”

“Adam Cartwright.”

“Adam.” Eli repeated slowly and he glared down at the ground, and began to drum a tattoo with his fingers against the wooden boards of the wagon, as though the sound of it echoed the beat of his pulses that were thudding through his body.

“So – who are you and what are you doing here?” Adam asked now, “How did you know my mother?”

Eli stopped the drumming with his fingers and put both hands in the deep pockets of his long coat. He pursed his lips and looked at the boy before shrugging,

“I knew your father too, you know. Me and Jude, we sailed on a clipper ship with old Stoddard. That’s where we met your father. He was Captain’s mate on board. That’s where we – I mean, I – met Elizabeth.” there was no softening in the voice at the mention of her, but Adam realised that by the man singling himself out as the one who met Elizabeth there had been some attachment by Eli to her. He waited, the sounds of the camp muffled in the background as he concentrated on what Eli was to say next.

The silence seemed to stretch on for a long time before Eli shrugged slightly and looked down at the boy,

“Your mother died when you were born, ain’t that right?”

Adam straightened his back and nodded. Throughout all his life he had never conquered the feeling of guilt in knowing that in giving him life, his mother had forfeited her own. No amount of love and pride given him by Ben, Inger or Marie could assuage the tidal wave of angst that ripped through him when that particular pain in his heart was prodded.

“You know, I could kill you right now for that fact alone.” Eli hissed and stepped away from him with the disgust as clearly shown on his face as that of a man about to step on a rattlesnake.

He walked towards the camp and jerked a thumb over in Adam’s direction,

“Tie him up. I’ll deal with him later.” and with a promptitude that did little to make Adam feel in any way positive about his future Tim approached him with a stout rope in his hands and a sneering smile on his lips.

Chapter 7

The child laughed. Joe was born for laughter and tears. Even at the tender age of three he was mercurial in feelings, laughter could turn to tears in a moment, and tears could switch over to laughter in the beat of a heart. Ben tossed him into the air again, his small hand brushed the ceiling and he laughed for this was the point of the game, to be tossed so high that he could touch the ceiling and the odd roll of his stomach as it lurched back and forth just added to the thrill of the moment.

It was when the old clock chimed the hour that Ben paused awhile to mark the time, and then placed Joseph down. He glanced over at his wife,

“I don’t think we’ll wait supper any longer, my dear. When Adam does get home I’ll make sure he apologises and has a good reason for not being here.” he ushered Joseph to his chair and picked him up, swung him into his seat and tweaked his nose for good measure, just to make sure the little boy didn’t think his father’s serious tone was meant for him.

This action immediately prompted a reaction from Joe however, as he raised innocently large eyes to his father

“Where’s Adam, Pa? Is Adam coming home, Pa? Is Adam late, Pa?”

Ben frowned, gave his little boy a stern look beneath dark brows and then pulled out a chair for Hoss who was so engrossed with the game he was playing that the whole matter had passed him by.

“Come, Hoss, aren’t you eating with us?” Ben smiled as the child looked up, a startled puzzled look on his face which was swiftly changed to one of delight as he got to his feet, put the toy wagon and horses aside and hurried to the table.

“Where’s Adam, Pa? Are we having supper without Adam here ?” he wriggled onto the chair and smiled at them all, a bright sunny innocent smile that one would expect from a child such as he for Hoss was, in a nutshell, quite cherubic. Big blue eyes in a face that was as open to read as a book. His hair was a mass of white blond curls and even though he was a big boy for his age his sweetness of nature made him appear much younger.

Opposite him sat his brother who had a tight grip on his spoon and was prepared to do battle with the napkin his mother was tying around his neck. Joe was a messy eater still, particularly if he didn’t like the food on his plate. There was a restless spirit about this child for all his handsomeness. He was, so some said, far too pretty for his own good with a mass of white blond curls just like Hoss, but with the largest hazel green eyes shaded by the longest lashes a boy could have possessed.

“Adam’s naughty, he’s not home yet.” Joe told his brother and Hoss raised his eyebrows and looked at the food on the table as though he couldn’t believe that anyone in their right mind would want to be absent from a meal like this,

“Oh!” and he sighed and looked at his father.

“Enough chatter now, boys.” Ben admonished and took his seat. He said the prayer for the meal and then smiled over at Marie as he always did, because she was his greatest blessing and it always did his heart good to be able to look across the table at her pretty face.

How different life was for them now, he thought as he put food on his plate. He looked at Joe and remembered his eldest son whose hair had always been near black even as a babe. How different these children were to Adam, and how different their lives were to the one that child had been forced to live. There were times when bitter regret and guilt touched Ben’s heart and he shuddered at the memory of past incidents when dangers had threatened so closely that more than once Adam’s life had hang in the balance by a hairs breadth. And all his fault, because of his dream.

He sighed involuntarily, unaware that his wife was observing him and concerned for Marie knew her man well now and could discern his anxiety.

“He won’t be long, Ben. You know how much of a day dreamer he is and if he has a new book, as you said he did, then he will no doubt have got lost in it.” she smiled at him, but the smile he returned to her did not touch his eyes wherein lay only guilt and anxiety.

“All the same he should have been home by now, Marie. He knows how important it is for us to be together as a family for this meal.”

She smiled indulgently and nodded. It was the past, she thought to herself, Ben is remembering the times when there was no food and only danger all around for his son and himself. Now Adam is late home and he frets and sees danger growing with every tick of the clock.

“Ma, I don’t want these …” Joe pushed his carrots to one side of his plate and got some satisfaction from seeing several fall onto the floor, “Don’t like them things.”

“You ate them yesterday, young man, so you can eat them again today. Don’t do that, Joseph.” Marie scolded and shook her head at him with a serious look on her face.

“No, don’t like ‘em.” Joe replied and pushed his plate away.

“Eat your food, Joseph, and stop fussing.” Ben snapped in such a severe tone that Joseph immediately pulled the plate nearer and shovelled a spoonful of the food into his mouth.

Ben sighed and glanced over at the clock. Yes, eat your food, Joseph, be grateful you have more than you need on your plate. There was a time and not so long ago … for heaven’s sake, Adam, where are you?

Hoss sensed the mood. He was nearly nine years old now and could still remember the times when food was scarce and dangers were ever present. He glanced at the empty seat and then at his father’s face. He knew from the way his father looked and the restless way Ben moved in his chair that his father was worried. He knew too that there were many reasons why he would be worried for the world beyond the perimeters of the ranch house was a dangerous place. Wild animals roamed free. The Paiute still claimed much of the land as their own and were often quite keen to prove it by kidnapping the children and women of the settlers, or burning down a homestead or two. There were even mountain men who came down from the hills as wild as the Paiute, even wilder sometimes.

There there were the natural disasters like a fall from a horse, or the horse breaking a leg. A rattlesnake perhaps? Hoss took a deep breath and decided to concentrate more on his meal.

He ate the food carefully for Hoss well knew that his brother Adam was prone to finding trouble, or, as he would claim, liable to have trouble find him.

Marie poured out coffee for Ben and herself, and touched his hand gently so that when Ben looked up she could smile over at him, reassuring him that all was well. Her husband kissed the hand, cupping it in his own, and as she set the coffee pot down he looked over at her and wondered if she ever, deep in her heart, had regretted coming to such a wild place.

How lovely she was, with her pretty oval face and bright eyes. Joseph was so like her in so many ways, not just by feature but by temperament as well. He smiled slowly, he would never be without Marie with Joe around he mused and then, startled, he asked himself why he had even thought such a thing. Marie would always be with him, always. He couldn’t bear to continue further with the thought for it made his heart race with fear, the fear of losing her was a nightmare echo of those whom he had already lost.

Chapter 8

Eli’s words and the manner in which they had been uttered froze something inside Adam. Had an opportunity arisen for him to make his escape there and then he would have been quite unable to have taken advantage of it. He was trussed up and secured without even realising the rough handling Tim made of the job for the dam had burst and the emotion he had held back now flooded his entire being.

Throughout his life he had attempted to stifle the questions and recriminations attached to his loss of Elizabeth. As a child he had doubly grieved when seeing his father gazing at her picture and sighing heart brokenly over her loss for he felt the one responsible and felt the weight of that upon his heart as heavily as a yoke upon the shoulders of an oxen.

He bowed his head now and stared dumbly at the ground without seeing it as his mind raced back down the years to tear open the wounds once again of sadness and loss. Inger had helped heal both Adam and Ben’s pain of loss because of her own pure and tender love for them. But the scars had been there and reopened with her death so soon after Hoss’ arrival. What a bitterly miserable start to life poor Hoss had been given but he had had his ‘big’ brother by his side to love and protect him through the pain.

Now this man, Eli Prowse, had ripped aside the vulnerable scar tissue to hurtle him to confront the one thing he could not understand or hide from, no matter how hard he had tried. Cruel words that might as well have branded him as a murderer, yes, a brand seared upon his flesh for all to see.

He struggled to smother his feelings and to prevent the tears that welled up like a newly tapped spring from the fresh earth. He was only fifteen, but it seemed to him he had been a man all his life long and now when he needed logic and discernment he was falling to pieces, drowning in self recrimination and misery.

This would not do, he reprimanded himself, something has to be done. He raised his head and looked over at the camp fire where most of the men were grouped together. He noticed that Henry and Hank had taken their plates with them and had walked to different sections of the camp, presumably as guards. The shadows were gathering in and the sun was fading. He struggled to put his own feelings to one side and to concentrate on what was the most important thing at that moment which was to get free and to warn Ben that someone from his past meant him great harm.

Now he began to pull at the rope and realised how securely he had been tethered. What a fool he was, he growled, what a fool to submerge himself in self pity when there were such important issues at stake. Again he had to fight within himself to stop tears of frustration overwhelm him. He had wasted an opportunity, thrown it away, because he had allowed Eli Prowse to make him feel vulnerable.

Donald Stanley listened to what was being said with his mind wondering how to help Adam Cartwright. He had seated himself in a position where he could clearly see the boy and watch his cousins as they had taken their posts for guard duty and were going to make sure that their prisoner did not escape them. Jack handed him a plate of stew but he couldn’t eat. Everything was getting too complicated for him and all he wanted to do was get on his horse, ride to the Ponderosa and tell Ben everything that was going to happen.

But to do that he would need a miracle.

Chapter 9

“So what do you plan to do?” Jude murmured as he tore apart the dry crusts that accompanied the stew, “ Are you going to change anything?”

“Only the time.” Eli replied, “They’ll be wondering where he’s got to” he jerked his head in the direction of Adam who sat some distance behind him, “old man Cartwright will no doubt get anxious enough to go looking for him.”

“So we nab him then? When he’s gets out to look for him?” Donald asked, his eyes flicking from one face to the other wondering what could possibly be going on behind those blank cold eyes.

“No. I don’t want him leaving the house. We’ll ride to the Ponderosa tonight. Pity he came along, he spoiled some of the fun we intended to have but perhaps that could come later. “ he rubbed one hand over his fist contemplatively, “No, it’ll work out as I want. You’ll see. We‘ll take him with us. He can watch -” Eli pursed his lips and the silence was unbearable as every man there knew exactly what would happen once the watching was over.

“So when do we go?” Donald prompted hoping that the sweat on his brow was not too evident.

“You’re asking a lot of questions, cousin.” Eli frowned and looked at him thoughtfully, “But then you always did want everything spelled out for ya. One, just one, of your many failings which is why you ain’t really one of us.”

“If I’m not one of you then what does that make me?”

Eli shrugged as though the subject made no difference to him whatsoever, Jack gave a cold laugh and stood up to pour out the coffee while Jude spat into the flames. Donald sighed and bit his bottom lip. All his life his cousins had tormented him and bullied him because his father had married a woman who had been both educated and intelligent. All his life he had longed to belong and to feel part of this kinship. He now knew that was never going to happen despite all the time he had spent on the Ponderosa spying out the land for them and gaining the Cartwright’s confidence. So now they would ride in and take what they wanted, do what they liked and still leave him out of the equation.

He glanced over at Adam and noticed how the boy was trying to get free of the ropes that bound him, although he froze instantly when he sensed Donald’s eyes on him. Adam’s dark eyes fixed onto Donald’s face and the expression on the handsome young face made the man feel even more wretched than he had done when lost in his own thoughts. Condemning oneself was one thing but seeing the condemnation in another’s eyes was truly something else.

“We’ll have to do something about the men in the bunk house. Don’t want them hearing anything and interfering. Donald, that’ll be your job. You can take Hank and Tim with you. Just keep them quiet. Once you’ve got them out of the way we can get into the house and deal with them. I hear tell that the new Mrs Cartwright is a real pretty lady, Donald.” Eli sneered, and he traced his forefinger along the scar contemplatively.

“Yes -” Donald stared at the ground noticing where the ash had fallen and blackened the soil, burned the grass.

“Did you say yes?” Jude sneered, kicking at his cousin’s ankle as though to stir him into life.

“I said yes, yes, she is pretty, she’s more than pretty besides,” Donald yelled and got to his feet with a suddenness that caught them by surprise, “She’s also very kind and very generous.” his hand clenched into a fist and before anyone could make any comment to that remark he had caught Jude by the shirt front and hauled him away from the campfire scattering Jack and Henry aside while with his free fist he swung it as hard as he could to connect with Jude’s stomach.

“He’s gone plumb crazy.” Jack exclaimed in amazement and stepping back to get clear of the two men who now were exchanging punch for punch and blow for blow.

Eli rose to his feet, stepped away from the two fighting men and drew out his gun. He aimed but had to lower the gun as brother and cousin seemed to meld into one being with multiple arms and legs. They rolled, fell, stood up and crashed down again. Pent up hatred and loathing suddenly released on both sides made the fight vicious and cruel. The so-called watchmen left their posts and came to watch, cheering on Jude, the cousin they most feared after all.

Adam watched with an intensity matched only by Eli’s. As the men turned and twisted, rose and fell to roll over and over in the dirt so they drew closer to the wagon. Eli kept the gun in his hand waiting for the moment he would need to use it, but the fighting was too frenzied and too close for him to do so.

It was Jude who cast Donald aside and threw himself at the wagon where he pulled an Indian scalping knife from beneath a pile of sacks. Donald sprung himself upon him with the desperation of a mad man having pulled from somewhere a slim dagger. The protagonists were now evenly matched. One fought in a passion of despair and hate while the other threw himself into the fight with cold detachment and loathing.

Every man there waited for the outcome as first one man and then the other wavered before the onslaught of their opponent. Once they meshed together and actually rolled over Adam’s legs causing him to cringe more closely to the wagon wheel to avoid harm befalling him.

“Come on, Jude, come on.”

“That’s enough – stop, stop I say.”

There was no one taking any notice of Eli’s command to stop. Certainly not Adam who hoped the fight would continue for far longer as he frantically sawed through the ropes that bound him. The slim dagger that had fallen – or perhaps even been thrown to him – as Jude and Donald had rolled over him had not been unnoticed. He had seized the chance and made good use of it.

The frenzy to fight was slowly winding down, despite the yells and shouts of the other men the two cousins were becoming exhausted from the vehemence of their attack. Jude’s knife flashed down once, twice and in the sudden total silence Donald Stanley fell to the ground at Eli’s feet. He raised his head, groaned once, then sunk slowly full stretch alongside the fire.

“Is he dead?” Jack asked, suddenly remembering that he was Uncle to this man just as much as to the others, and he knelt by Donald’s side and felt for a pulse.

Jude wiped blood from his nose and mouth, and staggering upon buckling legs he cannoned into the barrel, then lowered himself to sit upon the log while he seized a canteen of water and emptied its contents over his head, all the time gasping like a fish hauled out into the open air.

“You fools. What was all that about?” Eli hissed, grabbing at Jude’s torn and bloodied shirt.

“How’d I know? You saw him, he jest attacked me for no reason.” Jude protested, feeling his ribs which ached painfully and prevented his ability to get a good lungful of air.

Eli turned as though a sudden realisation had struck him. His eyes scanned the camp but there was no sign of Adam Cartwright. A muddle of rope was the only evidence that he had ever been there.

No one spoke a word. It seemed as though each and every one there had drawn in their breath and held it as Eli seemed to swell in size with cold rage. He turned slowly and looked down at Donald Stanley.

“Is he dead?”

Jack looked up and shook his head, he was about to speak when Eli’s gun spat death. The man with the scar nudged the body with the toe of his boot and shrugged with a coldness that even took Jude’s breath away.

“Well, he is now.” were the only words he uttered as he walked away.

Chapter 9

Adam heard the gun shot but didn’t pause in his flight through the undergrowth. He ran the way that he had been taught by the Indian scouts on the wagon trains when he had been a child, long loping strides with a spring to each step. Thin branches from rain starved shrubs whipped at his body and face as he passed them by. His only thought was to locate his horse and to ride home in the manner of a latter day Paul Revere.

His throat and mouth were dry now from the fear that he would have no time to reach his family and warn them of the coming danger. He had no doubts, youth though he was, that Eli was a crazed man so determined to wreak vengeance on Ben that he would stop at nothing. The thought of what could happen to his little brothers, to Marie and to his beloved father made his stomach contract and for a moment he had to stop his flight, bend double and force himself not to vomit.

His horse was gone. No sign of it anywhere. Of course Tim had taken it along into the camp. They would be counting on that now to delay his warning. He knew of a short cut through the rocks and to the river. He spun round wildly in its direction and recommenced his running.

The sun had disappeared now but the moon was still bright. Running in the manner he had adopted conserved some energy but nervousness and anxiety burned up energy as well and he knew that the brightness of the moon would be an enemy as well as a friend for he would stand out as a good target for them should they come searching for him.

Of course they would search for him, he told himself, of course they would. Eli hated him, hated him with a deep abiding personal hatred. Adam bit down on his bottom lip and forced himself onwards, forced himself not to think of the venom in Eli’s voice.

The river was just ahead. He ran towards it, missed his footing and fell. No time to think now, no time to stop, no time to worry as he scrabbled to regain his feet only to fall again as his ankle shot out pain and betrayed him by its weakness. Not now, he cried inwardly, not now. He had to reach the river, he just had to reach the river. He managed to get to his feet, and hopped, scrabbled and skidded down to the waters edge where, without any hesitation, he plunged into its inky darkness. For some seconds only the moon would have understood the multitude of ripples that shimmered in the silver spangles of her light upon the water.

“Where’s he gone?” Eli demanded as all the men in the camp thrashed around in the undergrowth.

“Can’t see hide nor hair of him.” Hank yelled in return.

“He can’t go far, we’ve brung his horse into camp, remember?” Tim’s voice floated towards them, “Can’t see him over here.”

“He could be hiding anywhere.” Jack grumbled, cursing them for making him run about in a useless task when his rheumatics were so bad.

“No.” Eli shook his head, “No, he won‘t be hiding. He’ll be running home to tell his Pa we’re on our way.”

“It’ll take him quite a while without a horse.” Jude grinned, and walked towards his brother with a satisfied swagger only to feel Eli’s hand slap across his face,

“You fool. You should have known Donald wouldn’t go through with it. Getting yourself tangled in that fight -.”

“Then you should have stopped it.” Jude hissed, rubbing his face and remembering yet again just how much he hated his brother, not because of the weakness he loathed in Donald, but because of the fear Eli’s strength always created in him..

“If you’d not been such a mess of arms and legs I would have done. I should have shot you both ..” Eli hissed and turned swiftly back into the camp. “There’s no point in wasting time looking for him. He’ll be heading for the Ponderosa. He won’t get far on two legs.” he scowled into the dying flames of the fire and hunched his shoulders as he thought long and hard about his next action.

He could hear the men returning. He straightened his back and turned to them.

“Jack, you stay here with the wagon. The rest of you get saddled up.”

“You mean, we’re going now?” Jude said quietly, wiping traces of blood from his face as he spoke.

“Yes. We can pick the boy up as we go along. He won’t have got far.”

He kicked at the dying embers of the fire, scowled at Donald’s inert body,

“You can bury him while we’re gone.” he shouted over his shoulder at Jack

Chapter 11

The waters were cold but at the same time refreshing as they served to cool down Adam’s fevered anxiety. The current flowed in his favour, strong and steady, as they had not been fed from the mountains by an onrush of melting snows or continuous rainfall. Swimming with strong strokes and borne along by the current Adam carved through the water, watchful for the point where he would have to gain land once again, but thankful for knowing that such a short cut, albeit wet and cold, was available. The awareness of how close danger ran at his heels prompted him to exert every inch of power in his body to distance himself from the Prowse brothers.

The moon played chase with the clouds but Adam had swam this section of river so often that he was in no doubt as to where he would have to tread water and return to the land. It would be an unpleasant journey from thereon in and he could only pray that his ankle would be strong enough to bear his weight in order to get him home in time. His sole purpose and focus was in swimming fast enough to make up for any time he would lose on the rest of the trek.

There it was – his brain signalled the alarm to move to the left and it was not long before he was treading water and hauling himself up the bank. He tried to raise himself up on his feet right away but there was no possibility of a chance that he would be able to do so for he could barely breathe as he gasped and gulped for air, flinging himself onto his back with his arms outstretched on either side of him.

He had to move now. He had to gain his feet and start the run for home. Despair washed over him as he contemplated what would have happened in the camp after his departure. No doubt at all that Eli Prowse would have got the men saddled up and riding towards the Ponderosa. How long would it take? Donald would not have known the short cuts along the trails through the land that would give them such a cruel advantage. Surely to goodness the man would have provided the straightforward journey to the ranch house, the journey that would take two hours at the most.

Two hours? What was two hours when he had barely any breath in his body and his ankle pained so badly he could hardly put weight upon it. It wouldn’t be two hours now anyway, he reasoned to himself, perhaps much less. He wiped his face with his hands banishing away tears along with the river water. He could do it because, well, because he had to do it.

He dragged himself to where a shrub provided something upon which he could hold onto as he gingerly rose to his feet. He paused an instant and felt no pain. His ankle must have eased itself free from pain while he was swimming and the cold water prevented the swelling that would have hampered him. Now was not the time to theorise on such a subject and he began to run. One foot before the other, onwards, onwards.

The niggle of pain started within five minutes of his run. He clamped his mouth over his clenched teeth and continued onwards. A cool breeze passed through the soaking wet clothes making him shiver as the clothes clung like a second skin to his body. There was nothing he could do but press onwards.

He stumbled, regained his footing and concentrated on more running. The pain in his ankle was slowly creeping up his lower leg and he clenched his teeth once more in an effort to focus on his running. Now there was the stabbing pain in his ribs that sliced across his abdomen and doubled him over.

“No, oh nono…”

The moan of pain slipped from between his lips as he crumpled to the ground, first on one knee, he clutched at his side where the pain cut across his lungs now. He fell upon his other knee. He couldn’t believe this could be happening to him, not now, not now. He raised his eyes to the heavens and pleaded with the invisible Almighty for strength, for anything, anything.

Taking deep breaths he staggered up onto his feet, holding his side with both hands he took several more steps forward, another and another.

“Help me … help me…” he intoned as though in supplication and the perspiration mingled with the river water to run down his face.

“Help me …” his sigh was more like a sob. He could see Hoss’ big blue eyes turned to him and Joe’s cries were loud to his ears, “Help me …” He saw Marie running towards him with fear on her face and Ben’s cry from behind her and then he collapsed in a heap in the middle of the track.

From somewhere he heard the sound of hoof beats. An involuntary sob racked his body and he reached out with one hand to nothingness, only the dark … “Please … no.”

Chapter 11

The horses pulled up only feet away from the body of the youth who was sprawled across the track. An old man clambered down from the battered wagon and ran towards him, put his arm beneath Adam’s head and looked earnestly into the boy’s face. There was no need to tell Old Hogan, as he was known to all in the locality, that the boy was exhausted.

“It’s alright, Adam, it’s alright. Calm down now. Here’s some water, drink what you can.” he spoke calmly although he looked all around him just in case a bunch of crazed Paiutes were about to jump out at them.

“Mr Hogan?” Adam opened his eyes wide and stared in disbelief at the old man, “Mr Hogan, it’s really you?”

“Yeah, it’s me alright. Who did you expect, huh? Winnemucca?” and the kindly old man smiled down reassuringly – well, he hoped it was reassuringly – down at the boy.

“Mr Hogan, can you help me? You must help me, Mr Hogan. My family … they’re in danger. I must get to them. Can I borrow your wagon? I’ve hurt my foot and I can’t run anymore and I have to get to them.”

Hogan disengaged the hand that had grabbed too tightly to his shirt, he nodded as though understanding every word that the boy was gabbling on about, and tried to get Adam to drink the water from the canteen which the lad was persistently pushing away.

“Let’s get you into the wagon, lad.” he eventually said, and placed a surprisingly wiry and strong arm across Adam’s back and under his left armpit so that he hauled him up onto his feet with no trouble at all. “Can you walk?”

“My foot, I think it’s twisted.”

“Well, that won’t do will it? Here, lean on me. I’ll take you home right away. What a state to get into, lad.”

“Mr Hogan, please hurry.” Adam cried, clinging tightly to Mr Hogan’s shirt once again, “It’s really urgent.”

“Up you go now,” Adam was unceremoniously dumped onto the wagon seat, “Get a drink of water inside yourself. Now, let’s get you home. You bin swimming in your clothes, boy? You stink of river water.”

Adam said nothing but slumped down and rather lolled against Mr Hogan who seemed totally unaware of the fact that he smelled strongly of goats. At any other time it would have raised a smile from Adam that Mr Hogan could complain about the smell of river water when he himself reeked of goat.

“Mr Hogan, there’s some men headed for the Ponderosa. We must get there first. Do you understand?”

“Well, Betsy and Jenny can only go at one pace, lad. They’re not used to galloping about the countryside at all hours. Good thing your father said I could use this short cut across the Ponderosa otherwise I would never have found you. You are alright, aren’t you, lad?”

“No, Mr Hogan,” Adam groaned, “I’m not alright, I’m not alright at all.”

“No, I didn’t think you were. Hup, girls, c’mon now. Hup hup…” and he flicked the reins heartily so that Betsy and Jenny sprung into a surpassingly fast gallop, “I knew they had it in ‘em somewhere if push ever got to shove.” Hogan yelled, “Now, you were saying about some men?”

Adam closed his eyes and felt the breeze created by the speed of the horses whipping against his face. If they could only get there before Eli and Jude. There was no room for if’s and he clutched hold of Mr Hogan by the arm,

“Please, Mr Hogan, please go faster.”

…………

Eli Prowse could see the glow of the lamps in the windows of the house as he drew his horse to a halt. Just for a moment he wanted to savour his triumph. He had come this far, after so long he had tracked down his enemy. He drew in a deep long breath.

“What now?” Jude whispered.

“Take Tim and Henry and silence the men in the bunkhouse. Then come back here and join us.” came the reply although Eli’s eyes didn’t move to even glance at his brother, they simply devoured the building ahead of him.

……………

“I don’t want another sound from either of you, do you hear?” Ben’s voice was warm and soft, deep and caressing. He loved this time of the day when he had a few moments of play with his little boys. May be a story would be read, may be a little chase around the bedrooms and down the corridor while he pretended to be a big gruff old bear chasing after them. Always a moment as he tucked them into bed, said their goodnight prayer, kissed their upturned innocent and trusting faces.

“Don’t turn out the light, Pa,” Hoss cried as the door closed.

“I won’t. Go to sleep now.”

“Good night, Pa.”

“Goodnight, Hoss.”

He peeked into Joe’s room. Little Joe was snuggled down deep in his bed the cover pulled right up to his nose. He opened his eyes wide when he saw the door open and Ben’s head peeking at him,

“Still awake, Joe?”

“Pa, is Adam home now?”

“Not yet. Go to sleep, son.”

Joe giggled, tiny teeth as small and white strung all in a row gleamed behind moist sweet lips. He snuggled down further. It was cosy and warm.. He was safe and secure. Joe had always been safe and secure, he had never known a moment when he hadn’t had Pa and Ma with him, or Adam to care for him. He yawned a mighty yawn, and rubbed his eyes.

“G’night, Pa.”

The door closed and only the little night light flickered on the bedside table. He mumbled baby words that meant nothing and stuck his thumb in his mouth. Long lashes caressed chipmunk cheeks and a pert little nose twitched as he slipped into slumber.

Chapter 12.

“Stop here, Mr Hogan.” Adam whispered and put his hand gently on the old man’s arm, “They’re already here.”

“What?” Hogan exclaimed in disbelief and craned his neck forward looking rather like a startled turtle peeking from his shell. “What do we do now?”

Adam was unable to speak but just stared in disbelief at the group of horsemen ahead of them. They were grouped just before the stable and corral, between the bunkhouse and the barn. He licked very dry lips and shook his head in dismay.

“They’re not moving, Mr Hogan. Why’s that, do you reckon?”

“Waiting for someone, mebbe?” Hogan replied blinking his eyes rapidly for he suffered from myopia and was unable to afford spectacles.

The moon seemed in a compassionate mood for it gleamed down upon the horsemen benignly, exposing them quite clearly to the sharper eyed boy who now counted them carefully and then bowed his head as he tried to work out his computations.

“They’ve split up, that’s what they’ve done,” he groaned, “Mr Hogan, we’ve got to stop them getting into the house. Have you got a gun?”

“Only my old hunting gun,” Hogan patted the long lean form that lay at his feet, “But it won’t be any good against them.”

Adam nodded and then beckoned Mr Hogan to draw closer so that he could whisper to him, this Mr Hogan obliged to do, leaning forward with look of concentration on his face.

“I can climb up to the roof round the back, Sir. Then I can get through the landing window, Ma always keeps that open.” he frowned, “They won’t see me if we go round here -” he indicated the rear of the stables “ and take the way round to the back through Ma’s garden. Will you wait for me there?”

“Sure, boy, sure I will.”

“It’s just in case something goes wrong and we need to make a quite getaway.”

“I know, I get your meaning.” Hogan nodded, and dismounted from the wagon seat to walk alongside the horses. Although slower to arrive at their destination, it meant less noise to attract the attention of the Prowse brothers and their cousins.

Adam chaffed at the delay, but he could understand Hogan’s methods and gripped the edge of the wagon seat tightly, so tightly his knuckles shone white. But it worked. The old man led his pair of trusty horses round the back of the ranch house through Marie’s garden and set it close against the wall.

“How’re you going to git up thar?” Hogan pointed to the landing window.

“Don’t worry, Mr Hogan, I’ve done it quite a few times now.” Adam replied and took hold of the old gnarled hand, “Thank you, Mr Hogan.”

“Jest you keep safe now.”

“You will wait for me? I mean, there may be some shooting.”

“That’s as may be,” Hogan shrugged, “I’ll duck in the wagon. Just be careful and mind that foot.”

The moon turned and sidled behind a cloud blotting out her silvery light so effectively that the ranch house became just a darker shadow within shadows and the gleam from the windows were like beacons beckoning the unwary to a safe haven.

Adam scrambled up from the wagon and balanced precariously on the edge before beginning his slow progress to the roof. It required some dexterity as his ankle was painful and more than once threatened to give way but by holding firmly to the trellis work upon which Marie was hoping to train her roses and honeysuckle he gradually inched his way to the roof. The window was open just sufficiently for him to slide through and gain the landing.

…………….

Eli Prowse turned as the three horsemen approached him.

“Well?” he hissed, “How did you get on?”

“No problem.” Tim replied with a slight shrug as though the question was an insult to their ability to silence half a dozen men. “They weren’t expecting trouble -”

“They won’t give us no trouble either,” Jude snapped, and he glanced at the house, “How long do you intend sitting around here?”

“No longer.” Eli gave a slight shrug of the shoulders, “Let’s go. Softly now. I don’t want them hearing us coming.”

……………..

Hop Sing put the dampers on the stove and yawned. It hadn’t been a particularly long day but he was tired. Just sometimes the body needed a little more rest, a little more slumber than usual. He shook his head and muttered to himself as he prepared some green leaf tea in his own porcelain cup.

The kitchen door opened and he turned with a smile of expectancy upon his face,

“Mr Adam is that you?”

He would never be able to tell anyone what happened next because it seemed as though the kitchen ceiling had collapsed on him. He saw dense darkness and a scattering of stars and then he saw nothing else at all.

……………….

Ben Cartwright poured out a glass of wine and handed it to his wife with a smile. These were the tranquil hours, time together when they could talk over the days events, laugh at some things, discuss more seriously some other matters and generally relax.

“Aren’t you going to pour yourself something as well?” Marie asked softly, looking at him with an anxious frown on her smooth brow.

“No, I’m going to go and see if I can find Adam. I know I should show more confidence in him but it’s later than usual, and I’m worried about him.”

“It’s not bad to worry about him, but -” she reached out a hand and placed it gently upon his arm, “you have to trust him, Ben. He’s not a child anymore.”

Ben frowned darkly and then shook his head,

“It isn’t a matter of trusting him, and of course I know he’s not a child anymore, but even grown men have accidents, or fall upon danger in some way or another in this wild country of ours. Marie, I think -”

He paused and turned to face the door as it was rudely thrown open. So fiercely in fact that it crashed into the bureau and the man at the entrance had to put out a hand to prevent it swinging back on him. A tall thin man with a long coat, grey hat, and a rifle in his hand.

“Evening, Ben. It’s been a long time since we last met, hasn’t it?”

…………….

On the landing Adam froze. He had been about to shout out a warning to Ben, his mouth was in fact open for that very reason, but he heard the crash of the door and knew exactly what that meant. Eli …

From down in the main room there was now silence. Marie was not the kind of woman who would start screaming and going hysterical. He pictured in his mind exactly what she would do; she would stand up gracefully and walk to Ben’s side, take his arm and face the danger. She was that kind of woman, one who was worthy of being Mrs Ben Cartwright.

Whatever was going to happen downstairs, Adam considered, would have to be dealt with by Ben for the moment. Now there were two other priorities, two that had no reason for hurt or harm. He sidled slowly into Hoss’ room and approached his bed. Hoss Cartwright had been drifting in and out of sleep but the loud bang as the front door to the house had burst open upon Eli’s ‘grand entrance’ brought him to full wakefulness with a start. For a second or two he remained where he was in bed, blinking like an owl and with his heart beating twice as fast as normal. He could see the candle still flickering by the bedside.

He pulled his covers higher and stared wide eyed at the door. Perhaps he had imagined it, perhaps it was all part of his dream. He squeezed his eyes shut now and shivered, then again, perhaps he had not. Now he had to decide whether or not to call out for Ma who was very strict about this kind of thing, or to yell for Pa who was even stricter. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth to yell,

“Hoss?”

The whisper of his name came close to his ear so he opened his eyes and turned to face his brother with a wide smile of delight,

“Adam, wha-” Adam’s hand gently covered Hoss’ mouth and his finger went to his own lips to indicate the need for silence, “What’s wrong? Did you hear a loud bang, Adam?” he now whispered and Adam nodded,

“Hoss, guess what? Mr Hogan’s got some baby goats to show you. It’s a surprise so Pa and Ma mustn’t know about it. Look, Hoss, go to the landing window and climb through the window where Mr Hogan’s waiting. You can do that alright, can’t you?”

“I don’t know,” Hoss frowned slightly, “I’ll just get -” and he groped for his pants and shirt.

“No, you can’t get dressed now or you’ll spoil the surprise. Hurry, Hoss, put your boots on and go.”

“But I’m tired,” the little boy protested.

“So am I, but this is such a great surprise for Ma and Pa, Hoss. Please hurry.”

Something in his brother’s voice prompted Hoss to obey this request. Had Adam been his usual bossy ’big brother’ self he would have stuck his heels in and refused, but there was something about this plea, spoken so quietly, so earnestly, that signified that something important had happened. Hoss got out of the bed, pushed his feet into his boots and followed his brother to the bedroom door,

“What’s the matter with you?” he whispered, tugging at Adam’s hand, “You hurt your foot or sum’fin?”

“Twisted my ankle, darn it. Go quietly, Hoss. Shin over the window cill and then slide down, Mr Hogan will catch you. You’ll enjoy it. It’s fun.” Adam forced a smile although it was hard to maintain it and he had to look away to the other end of the landing which fell away to the stairs.

“Are you coming?”

“Not yet, in a minute.”

Hoss paused, looked earnestly at his brother and nodded. He was a bright child in his own way. Intuitive would perhaps be a better word. The bang of the door, the whispering and the way Adam was speaking all seemed very significant to him. By instinct he hurried as silently as he possibly could to the open window on the landing and peered out. Mr Hogan’s face could be seen like a pale moon gazing upwards. Hoss grinned, so Adam was telling the truth, Mr Hogan was going to show them some baby goats. Hoss loved nothing more than little infant animals and with a swiftness that brought sheer joy to Adam’s heart he had slipped across the window cill and was clattering down the roof shingles into Mr Hogan’s arms.

“I’ve come to see the goats,” he cried in delight as Mr Hogan, quite amazed at this night shirted little person dropping into his arms, lowered him into the wagon.

“Did Adam send you?” he asked quietly and Hoss nodded enthusiastically.

“Sit down thar then,” Hogan pointed to the back of the wagon where some sacks of potatoes and flour were arranged, “And be very quiet.”

Hoss nodded again and hurried into a corner of the wagon with the potatoes on either side of him.

Adam leaned heavily against the door frame and listened for some clue as to what was happening downstairs but there appeared to be no sound. His foot was hurting so much that the pain was burning hot. He lurched across the corridor to Joe’s room, and slowly pushed open the door.

The even breathing of the little child was indicative enough of the fact that he slept. Very carefully Adam wrapped the blanket tightly around his brother who merely sighed as though the movement was a pleasant experience manifested in his dreams. Joe had been very small when born and was under sized for his age and as light as a feather to a youth of Adam’s build and age. Very gently Adam lifted him into his arms and turned to face the door.

This was now the problem. To cross the room and get down the landing with a sleeping child in his arms with an injury that was a torment in itself. He gingerly put his foot down and holding his breath, clenching his teeth and praying that he would succeed Adam began to cross the room. He leaned against the door frame and then edged along the landing by leaning against the wall, letting that take the brunt of his weight and thus easing any pressure on his foot.

Mr Hogan looked up as he heard his name hailed from above,

“Mr Hogan, I’ve got Joe. What shall I do now, I can’t climb down with him.”

“I’ll catch him, Adam, don’t worry. Just toss the lad down …”

Adam recoiled in horror. Toss Joe down to a near blind old man, how could he even entertain the idea? He could feel perspiration on his brow and licked very dry lips. The child in his arms stirred and sighed, a little snort emphasised how deeply asleep he was and Adam shivered as he cast about in his mind as to what was the best thing to do.

He could put Joe in another room, but then Joe could wake up, cry out, cause a tantrum. He’d be scared with no one to be with to explain what had happened. Could he trust in Eli being kind to Joe? He shook his head on that possibility. There was no possible way that he could feel confident on that score, quite the opposite in fact.

Hogan was right, he would have to make sure he aimed straight and true and that by some miracle Hogan would be there to catch Joe. He leaned against the window frame,

“Ready?”

“Throw him out.” came Hogan’s matter of fact voice and he opened his arms wide.

“Here he comes.” Adam cried but then stopped. How could he do it, how could he cast Joe out of the landing window in the hope of his being caught safely down below.

“Throw him down, lad. I’ve been catching bigger things than him in my lifetime.” Hogan cried in the loudest whisper Adam had ever heard.

Adam looked at his brother’s sleeping face, the curls that peeked from the blanket, the downy cheeks and baby pouting lips.

“Joe, this is the best I can do, Joe.” he whispered and looked down at Hogan still patiently waiting.

Out Joe went through the window. Slowly the blanket unfurled and the little night shirted figure plummeted downwards to land safely in Hogan’s arms. The blanket drifted down seconds later to drape itself over the wagon’s contents. Joe opened his eyes, blinked and found himself looking up at Hoss.

“Going to see Mr Hogan’s baby goats, Joe.” Hoss whispered with such delight and with such a wide smile that Joe beamed with pleasure.

“You coming?” Hogan cried.

“No – take them, Mr Hogan.”

The old man nodded, understood what he had to do and took his seat. He flicked the reins and without as much as a backward glance made his way from the ranch house. Joe had fallen asleep, secure in Hoss’ arms and blissfully unaware of the fact that he shared a wagon with some groceries and was not safely tucked up in bed. Hoss thought the whole thing was wonderful, he could hardly contain himself with excitement at the thought of the little kids he was about to see now.

Chapter 14

It was great relief for the youth to watch the wagon move away through Marie’s garden. The ground was soft from careful digging and there was no sound of the horses passage over the plants that had been the recipients of such tender care over the years. Whether they would ever recover from the rough treatment now meted out to them was another matter altogether.

Exhausted now Adam slid down into a sitting position with his knees drawn up against his chest while his head lolled a little against the wall. The pain in his foot caused him to bite his bottom lip hard and he gripped it tightly between both hands as though somehow he would be able to ease the damage out of existence.

Now that his head was no longer buzzing with things to do he was aware of the low hum of conversation coming from the big room but despite his curiosity and anxiety as to what was happening there, he was too exhausted to move from where he had collapsed.

………..

Ben and Marie had been shocked by the sudden emergence of Eli Prowse into their home. Marie rose from her chair, set her glass of wine down on the side table and approached her husband, took his hand and turned to face the intruder.

Eli Prowse had smiled his cold mirthless smile and looked them over with his blank dead eyes. One by one his cousins entered the house each of them cradling a rifle in their arms. From the kitchen area Jude emerged, his lips twisted into a cold smirk, which caused Marie to tighten her grip on her husband’s hand.

“What have you done with my cook?” Ben asked, the first words he had spoken since Eli had emerged and not an answer to the question Eli had asked.

“Don’t worry about him,” Jude replied with a slight shrug of the shoulders, “Just a light tap on the head. Oh, and I tied him up. Too many knives and choppers there, you know. Don’t want him to cause any accidents. You know how excitable these Orientals can be?”

Ben straightened his back and turned to face Eli. The black eyes in his resolute face did nothing to cause Eli to change expression, for the man merely walked across the room to where the whiskey decanter had been placed, removed the stopped and raised the decanter to his nose. He inhaled, then nodded,

“Mmm, very good.” he acknowledged and proceeded to pour out two glasses of the liquid, one of which he handed over to Jude. The decanter he passed over to Tim with a look that indicated they could help themselves. “Well, you know something, everywhere I have gone lately I kept hearing about this Ben Cartwright. The man who owns so much land, has so much gold and silver, who’s building an empire right here called The Ponderosa. I couldn’t believe it possible that my old ship mate, Ben Cartwright, could be the man of whom they were speaking, but – “ he widened his eyes as though in mock amazement “who do I see here but the man himself.”

Marie glanced up at Ben, saw the way his lips had thinned and the brow slightly creased as though in an effort to recall the man. Once again she squeezed his hand tightly as though to remind him to be cautious with what he said.

“Now then, much as I hate to come between a man and his wife,” Eli nodded towards them and raised his glass, “I don’t really feel comfortable with you two standing there so close like that …” he pointed to a hard back blue chair, “Madam, why not be more comfortable and sit there.”

Marie glanced at Ben for his approval before she moved to the chair and sat down. She forced herself to remain calm and not to think of the sleeping children upstairs in case doing so weakened her resolve and courage. She looked at Eli coldly, raising her chin in defiance,

“Who are you?” she demanded.

“Surely I’ve already said, Eli Prowse at your service, Madam, an old ship mate of your husbands.”

“I don’t recall you” Ben replied, “I certainly don’t like the way you’ve entered my home like this. I think you had better leave.”

“You think so, huh?” Eli shook his head and sat down in Ben’s big chair, he leaned back and sighed as though quite contented, he crossed one long thin leg over the other while he tossed his hat onto the low table in front of the hearth.

Now they could see his face without shadows. They could see the long scar that ran across his face, the blank cold eyes and the merciless lips. Ben’s eyes narrowed as he observed the man and his memory began to stir.

“Let me introduce you to my family.” Eli waved a hand towards the other men in the room, Jude moved forwards and stood behind his brother, removing his hat as he did so.
“You may remember Jude, my brother. He served with us both on Abel Stoddards ship, Ben.”

“I remember,” Ben said coldly his eyes staring straight into those of Jude Prowse.

“Let me introduce you to the family … my cousins David, Peter and Hank Matthews. They were my father’s sisters boys. They never went to sea so you won’t know them.”

The sardonic note in his voice made Marie shiver, the three Matthews brothers removed their hats but their faces remained inscrutable.

“Tim and Harry Jackson, they’re my cousins too by my mother’s sister. Oh, you wouldn’t know them either. But -” Eli tossed back the whiskey and gently set down the glass on the side table, “you would have known my other cousin, Donald Stanley.”

“Donald?” Ben frowned, “He worked here …” his voice trailed off and his eyes flicked back to the men assembled in the room, “He’s not with you?”

“Well, he was, for a while.” Eli murmured in the tones a cat may have used once it had chomped on a mouse and then had to atone for the misdemeanour, “He was working for me as well, you see, Ben. I needed to get to know all about this place-” he glanced around the room and then smiled coldly at Marie, “And who was here. Donald was volunteered for the job. He would have been here to thank you personally for your help over the past few months but sadly,” he sighed melodramatically, “he died not long ago.”

“Died? What do you mean, he died? He was well enough this morning.”

“That was this morning,” Eli shrugged, “Things change. Poor Donald.”

Marie shivered again. Jude’s face had darkened slightly and the eyelids had fluttered, his grip on the rifle tightened, and she had no doubt whatsoever who had been the cause of Donald’s demise. It was at this point in time that Adam had seen Hogan drive away and had collapsed on the landing floor.

“You say we were ship mates, Mr Prowse, with Abel Stoddard?” Ben’s voice was low and steady, he stepped forward but a movement by Tim and Harry as they swung their rifles towards him cautioned him to remain still, “I’m sorry, but I don’t recall the circumstances in which we met.”

“Of course, I can understand that, after all, it has been eighteen years now. But, we old sea dogs, Jude and I, we remember it well. Very well.” he frowned, a lowering of the eyebrows that gave his face an even more sinister appearance, “We sailed with old Abel for some years before he took you on board. There we were, two good working seamen, who had sailed with Abel all that time and then you come along with -” he stopped, leaned back into the comfort of the chair and his face returned to the bland, cold expressionless canvas they had previously seen, “you came and changed everything. Caught Abel’s eye, didn’t you? Caught the eye of someone else too, didn’t you?”

“Look, just say what you’ve come here to say, Mr Prowse, and then take your men and go.”

“Or is it gold you want?” Marie stood up, suddenly aware that the atmosphere in the room had changed, the tensions had increased, and her fears for the children upstairs rushed to the surface.

“We’ll come to what we want later, Madam,” Eli said quietly, although he inclined her head to wards her as though he were some latter day monarch pleased at her initiative. “Stoddard did everything you told him after a while, didn’t he? What you didn’t know you learned fast, and he was willing enough to teach you. It didn’t matter that we had worked alongside him all those years, keeping that old tug afloat, making sure we kept to the time lines and got the best deals for him.”

“I did learn a lot from Abel, that’s true. But every man there worked well together, as a team. It was a good crew.” Ben replied, “Except at first, there were several who seemed to enjoy creating trouble. I had to get them dismissed eventually.”

“Yes, so you did.” Eli sighed. “But not without a fight, was it? Perhaps you’ve forgotten the evening we were docked in La Rochelle and what happened at the harbour inn there. I never did, nor did Jude. I had this to remember it by,” and he stabbed at finger in the direction of the long scar, “and to remember who caused it.”
“I see.” Ben sighed, and raised his dark eyebrows, “After all this time you’ve come back here for vengeance on something that I was perfectly justified in doing at the time. You were stealing from Abel, selling the merchandise to dealers, undercutting his prices. It meant that when he returned to Boston he had to account for those losses, and pay for them out of his own pocket or lose his contracts. I had every right to deal with you as I did that evening.”

“You and six other men came into that hostelry and made your accusations. When you left you didn’t care whether we were dead or alive, you left us on the floor bleeding like pigs and you never turned back.”

“Had I done so you would have been taken back to the ship and chained in the hold for the return trip to Boston. The knife that caused that wound -” Ben raised his hand to point at Eli’s face “was your own. You had every intention of using it on me and it was your own stupidity that resulted in your own injuries.”

Eli said nothing to that, and Jude looked down at his brother and wondered whether or not Eli was now regretting discussing that evenings shambolic result. Eli merely tapped his lips with his forefinger and stared at Ben. Then he shifted his gaze to observe Marie with a cold steadfastness that made the woman fearful of more than just her life.

Chapter 15

Eli suddenly took a deep breath and stretched out his arms almost as though he were the host and now becoming bored with his guests. He glanced from Ben to Marie, and then smiled, put his hand to the inside pocket of his long coat and produced a book.

Just for an instant Ben felt the blood drain from his face then rush in a profusion of colour as he recognised the book as the one Adam had so happily purchased that morning from Will Cass. He took two steps forward with hand outstretched but the click of the rifles and Marie’s gasped ‘Ben’ cautioned him to pause and remain still.

“Where did you get that?” he heard himself ask in a voice thick with emotion and his head throbbing with anticipated misery.

“From – well, no, mustn’t tell a lie – not from your son, I’m afraid. We did meet up, briefly, just long enough to have a little chat but then we parted company. Found his horse later on though with this in his saddle bags. Couldn’t tell you where he is now as we didn’t meet up on the way.”

“Oh no,” Marie gasped, the first sign of emotion she had shown and her fingers brushed against her lips, she turned to her husband, “Ben?” and reached out a hand towards him.

“What did you do to him? My heavens, man, if you have harmed him I swear I’ll kill you.” and once again he stepped rashly forwards with fists clenched. Once again the rifles swung into his direction and the click of safety catches being released brought him to a standstill.

“Oh for heavens sake, do you think I would harm Elizabeth’s son?” Eli sneered as he tossed the book onto the low table, “Yes, we had a little chat which meant I found out exactly who he was; a handsome boy, Ben, I’m sure you must be very proud of him?” he swung his cold eyes that now glittered like those of a cobra’s when about to strike in the direction of Marie who was sitting ram rod straight with a pale face and emotion after emotion flitting across her features like so many shadows, “And you, my dear, I believe have two sons of your own? Tucked up in bed, are they? Safe and warm and secure no doubt?”

“No,” Marie breathed and rose to her feet, “No, no, you leave them where they are, or – or I -”

“Please, Madam, please sit down. I’ve had a long hard day and I can’t be done with all this jumping about. Jude, go into the kitchen and make us all some coffee. Boys, sit down and stop making the place look untidy.” he leaned back again and stroked his chin thoughtfully as he watched Marie sit down, her eyes stricken now with fear for her boys. “Now then, I believe that you have only one son upstairs, haven’t you? The other boy is the son of your second wife, is that right, Ben?” he raised a hand languidly, and in such cold control of the situation that Ben felt sick, “Yes, of course, Ben Cartwright had three wives I’m told. Three wives and three sons. My word, Ben, what a busy little man you have been. I never married, of course, for when I love I remain totally loyal, fully committed. Like when I hate really -” he smiled and the smile was loathsome.

“You’re vile,” Marie hissed, unable to stop the words passing her lips as she struggled to think of some way in which she could protect the sleeping children upstairs.

Ben looked coldly into the lean scarred face and his mind became filled with figures from the past. He recalled now the laughing face of this man from 18 years previously; Eli and Jude Prowse always laughing and joking, hard working, hard playing. Always a merry quip, a sardonic little comment that one never got the barb of until later and then wondered as to what purpose.

There was another memory, one that was deeply submerged and was slowly surfacing. One he didn’t want to recognise but the more he looked into that cold face the harder it was becoming to ignore the little voice that whispered in his brain ‘He loved Elizabeth, you fool, that’s what this is all about.’

Chapter 16

In the kitchen Jude prepared the coffee, pulling out various items as he did so. Coffee, flour, sugar was spilled liberally and with total disregard. He cast his great hand over shelves and brought jars of spices and herbs toppling onto the floor where they smashed so that in the other room little explosions of sound could be heard.

He passed Hop Sing, now conscious and threshing against his bonds, so another ‘light tap on the head’ was administered which left the hapless man collapsed in the corner of the room.

On the landing Adam heard the sounds and realised now was not the time to be feeling sorry for himself. The wet clothes were cold and uncomfortable as they clung to his body and his ankle continued to throb and send darting arrows of pain up and down his leg. By grabbing at the window cill he succeeded in getting himself to his feet and using the wall to lean upon he slowly made his way to the door of his fathers bedroom.

Here he knew was a rifle and a pistol which Ben would kept close to hand in the event of emergencies. He brushed aside damp hair that had fallen across his eyes.

In the room now and passing from the door to where the weapons were situated, he would have to abandon the support and rely on his foot taking his weight. He moved slowly, frustratingly slowly, but found the rifle which he set down on the bed while he pulled open the drawer of the bedside cabinet to find the pistol. He weighed it in his hand in order to work out his strategy. He accepted the fact that at least six people were downstairs with guns so his one rifle would not be so effective in the long run, but the pistol would be an added advantage if he could conceal it somehow. He pulled his shirt loose so that it fell over his pants and tucked the pistol through his belt at his back. The shirt would conceal it and perhaps an opportunity would come when he could pass it to Ben, or even use it himself if necessary. He knew this could be a futile hope but at this point of time seized what chance he had to do something.

Taking the rifle and using it rather like a crutch to help him cross the room far more quickly than previously he gained the landing once more and made his way to the top of the stairs.

Jude was pouring out coffee into Marie’s precious little porcelain cups. The aroma of it touched Adam’s nostrils and made him think of Hop Sing. Perhaps he should try the landing window and get to the kitchen but then Eli began to talk again.

“Jude and I worked in Europe for a while after you left us in La Rochelle. Did quite well for ourselves really. Then I got to hankering after the girl I had left behind.” he stared into Ben’s black eyes without emotion while Ben had narrowed his own eyes to return the blank gaze with one of his own. “I’d known Elizabeth since she was a little girl. The sweetest little girl you could ever have wished to see. Oh I loved her. I watched her grow into a gangly little lady over the years and then one time we stopped over with old Abel and she came on board, and bless me, she had become a woman.” his voice held a trace of warmth as he recalled that time, he leaned over and took a cup of the coffee which he held in his hands for a few seconds, before, with a sigh he set it down again, untasted, “My heart belonged to her from that moment on. I told her one day when I met her that I would come back to marry her and asked her to promise to wait for me. I gave her a bunch of violets. I can remember her so clearly, burying that little nose into those flowers and smiling up at me. I told her, ‘Don’t forget me, little Miss Elizabeth, don’t ever forget Eli Prowse because I shall come back and marry you.’”

“You didn’t love you, she never even mentioned you, ever.” Ben retorted angrily, the colour once again suffusing his face, but then he saw the little book on the table and remembered that he didn’t know where Adam was and whatever had happened in the past was in the past. Adam’s predicament was now, in the present, and not knowing where he was or that he was safe was agonising.

“As it turned out, Ben, you’re right. She obviously didn’t love me because she married you. Do you know what it’s like to love so much that your heart is wrung dry when you find that the person so loved isn’t worth it? I thought she was going to be my wife but when I returned to Boston she wasn’t there. She wasn’t there…” his voice trailed away and it seemed to the onlookers that his voice had faded into a sob.

His hand reached out and took the cup, he gulped back the coffee and then stared at the cup as though through it he would see more clearly the memories of Elizabeth.

“Abel Stoddard was there though. We saw him at the Chandler’s stores you had set up with him. He told me where Elizabeth was so I bought some violets and took them to her. He told me that old Daniel McEwen had carved the headstone. He used to carve wonderful things, old McEwen, didn’t he?” his voice faded again, and for an instant Ben wondered if the man were mad.

Upstairs on the landing, gripping tight hold of the rifle, Adam stood and listened. His heart was pounding within his ribs as it often did when his mother was mentioned. He wondered if in the silence that had followed anyone down there could hear his heart beat for it was throbbing so loudly.

“I took the violets to her grave and there were stone roses carved upon her headstone. Stone roses tumbling across her name. I read the inscription … Elizabeth Stoddard Cartwright. Wife of Benjamin Cartwright and loving mother to a son, Adam.”
Ben said nothing. He glanced over at Marie and watched as she stared into the hearth where the logs were stacked for the time when the evenings became chill. Her hands were folded neatly in her lap. Someone coughed, and he remembered that there were other men there listening to this, strangers to him, listening to a man bare his soul before he put whatever crazy plan he had into action.

“I loved her too, Eli.” he said softly, looking at the man who sat so comfortably relaxed in the big leather chair, and Eli merely shrugged,

“Loved her? How could you make such a claim as that, Ben Cartwright? She was so young, so fragile. You took her and she gave you a son before she died. Then you went on and took another wife, and then – another.” he gestured to Marie, who turned her face towards him. “Love doesn’t move on like that, from one to another. Love means you’re steadfast and loyal. I’ve always been loyal in my love for Elizabeth even if she did” he paused again as though finding the words was difficult “even if she did forget her promise to me.”

“She made no promise to you, Eli. You imagined it because you wanted it to be so, but she never even mentioned you.”

“You said that before, but I know you’re lying. But you’re a big man, Ben, I can understand how you would draw her into your spell, make her feel safe and protected. Do you feel safe and protected, Madam?” he snapped the question at Marie who jumped, startled, at having the words so fiercely addressed to her.

“Yes” she replied and cast another glance at Ben, before her eyes travelled around the room to rest upon each man there present, “Yes, I do.”

“And do you think he’ll keep you safe, like he did my Elizabeth?”

The man is mad, Marie thought as she stared into his face, and nodded.

“He didn’t love her. Once she was dead he just went on and found another woman. Don’t you fool yourself, Madam, don’t you fool yourself.”

He stood up now, a tall lean boned man who seemed to fill the room as he swirled around and the long coat billowed about his legs,

“Get the kids down …” he snapped at Tim and Hank who were sitting side by side and closest to the stairs.

“NO!” Marie rose to her feet again, her hands clasped as though in prayer, “Please leave them, they’re so young, please don’t touch them.”

“Oh I do so love it when a woman starts to beg.” Eli’s mouth parted in a cruel wide smile although there was no warmth to it, there would not be any warmth in it for whatever tenderness he had ever possessed in his life had long shrivelled up like dust and blown away by some wind of misery.

There was a movement from the stairs and everyone turned to look up for Tim and Hank had stepped back into the room, their hands reaching for the rifles which they had neglectfully set down.

“Just back away,” Adam said very precisely as he stepped out onto the half landing the rifle aimed at Eli, “Do it now or I’ll shoot him -”

Chapter 17

“Adam, thank God -” Ben cried and turned towards him.

“Don’t be stupid, boy.” Eli shook his head in disdain, “How can you hope to win this battle. Look what you’re up against?”

“I only see one man here, Eli Prowse. Tell your men to put their weapons down. Now.”

“No.”

Adam didn’t waver, the rifle remained pointed at Eli who shrugged and sat down,

“Look, Adam, look at where the rifles are pointing? Do you really think my cousins are bothered by a child? You shoot me, they shoot your Pa and her -” he waved a hand in the direction of Marie, “So just what do you hope to accomplish? You’ll be responsible for their deaths, you know. You’ve already got the blood of one parent on your hands, surely you don’t want the blood of two more, do you?”

Adam felt dizzy now, the words stung worse than any blow to the body, and his eyes turned to his father’s face, to that dear man’s face whom he loved above any other. He saw only tenderness and compassion in the dark eyes, and Ben’s lips parted in a slow smile.

He offered no resistance when Tim grabbed the rifle and took it out of his hands. He felt ashamed. Perhaps in years to come he would know how to play this deadly game of bluff, but he was tender in years and despite the often times dangerous situations he had been in, he had never yet been in such a situation as this one.

He hobbled his way down the stairs and towards his father by whose side he stood. Eli sighed heavily as though he had been the one forced to step down. His eyes once again roved from one to the other of them.

“He looks like her, doesn’t he, Ben? I can see Elizabeth when I look at him.” and his voice was soft, like silk, caressing and gentle.

“Shall I go and get the kids down?” Tim asked and upon Eli’s answering nod of the head he and Hank thudded their way up the stairs.

Marie clasped her hands and raised them to her lips. She bit down hard on her fingers in an effort not to cry out as she waited to hear her dear little boy cry out in fear. Her heart was hammering against her chest making the light fabric of her frock flutter.

“They ain’t here,” came the sudden cry above the thumping of feet as the two men went from one room to another. “They’ve gone.”

“Gone?” Marie cried, her face grey with horror and she stood up and screamed at Eli, “Where have you taken them? What have you done with them?”

“I’ve not done anything with the brats.” Eli retorted angrily, and he swung his hand hard so that it struck her across her face sending her reeling onto the floor with a heavy thud.

Ben gave a yell of fury and throwing all caution to the wind threw himself at the man, so that both of them were sent staggering back against the chair, toppling over it and rolling onto the floor beyond. It was Adam who ran to Marie’s side and took her in his arms.

“It’s alright, Ma, it’s alright, they’re safe, I promise you, they’re safe.” he whispered into her ear and he felt her fingers tighten around his as she looked up into his face and saw the sincerity of what he was saying in his eyes.

The fight didn’t last long. Jude stepped towards them with the slow pace of a man who knew exactly what to do and chose the time when to do it. Ben was awarded a ‘light tap on the head’ which sent him falling prone upon his back on the floor.

Chapter 18

Eli, for want of any better word ,uncoiled himself from the entanglement with Ben’s body and got to his feet. He casually straightened his coat, brushed away some dust from his sleeve and walked towards Adam and Marie. He stopped a few feet away from them and surveyed them both thoughtfully,

“So, where are they?” he asked Adam. “Seeing that you appeared from upstairs I’m presuming that you’re the one responsible for their disappearance. What happened?
What did you do with them?”

Adam said nothing but clamped his mouth shut. He raised his stepmother to her feet and helped her back to the chair.

“You’re soaking wet, darling.” Marie murmured as though noticing his condition was the most important thing on her mind at that moment and she placed a gentle hand on his arm, “Are you alright, dear?”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake, spare us the maternal benevolencies, please.” Eli sighed and glanced over to where Ben remained sprawled on the floor, “Get him up and tie him to a chair.”

He stretched his shoulders and then clasped his hands behind his back, beneath the long coat. He rocked on his heels and looked thoughtfully at the youth and the woman who was now nursing her face where he had struck her. He sighed again and shook his head, brought a hand to his brow and rubbed his temple gently as though a pain there caused him some distress,

“Madam, my apologies. I should not have reacted like that and I am sorry. The fact is that I had a simple plan of action before I came here. You know how it is, you take the time to plan a thing out and all you want to do is create a bit of damage here -” he upturned the low table sending it’s contents, Marie’s antique coffee pot and cups, a bowl of fruit, scattering and smashing onto the floor, “a bit of chaos here -” he clicked his fingers at his cousins who began to use their rifle butts to overturn furniture, empty shelves of books which were methodically torn apart, “ I did think of setting the house on fire, you know, Ben outside looking on as his family … cooked inside.”

Marie gripped Adam’s hand as though she couldn’t really believe she was hearing all this, and her eyes watched the carnage to her home as though she were trapped in a nightmare which was never going to come to an end.

“So what do you intend to do now?” Adam asked coldly, standing straight backed and edging closer to Marie, he slid his hand to where he had hidden the pistol and calmly drew it out and confident that Marie was out of their vision he dropped it into her lap.

Marie did not hesitate but slipped it immediately into the pocket of her skirts which she then draped carefully in such a manner as to disguise any unusual bulge.

Eli approached him. He stood so close that Adam could smell his breath. It stunk of strong beef stew and coffee. The small eyes deepset in their sockets glared into the boy’s dark eyes. Adam with stood his ground and stared back. ‘I’ve nothing to lose now. Hoss and Joe are safe. It doesn’t matter now what happens to me.’

The scar on Eli’s face was livid and Adam could see it sharply defined against the dark tan of the man’s skin. It puckered just beneath the eye socket smoothing out by the jaw. There was nothing to like or admire about this face unless one admired evil.

Eli in turn looked upon the resolute features of the youth. He saw the large dark eyes and saw his own reflection glaring back at him. He remembered a time when he was young too, when his smooth child’s skin had began to need regular shaving and the bemusement of adolescence. He remembered it because it was then he had first seen Elizabeth. He stepped back.

“You are like your mother,” he said in a softer tone of voice, one he had not used before during their acquaintance, “I can see her in your eyes -” he raised a hand and placed his forefinger beneath the boy’s chin and raised his head to survey the youthful face just as he had first done at the camp only hours earlier. “Well, plans change.” he muttered and dropped his hand away.

His cousins stopped the rampage through the room and looked over at Eli. Hank gave a yell of triumph and held aloft a leather sack in both hands. He had found where Ben kept the gold that was the currency used in Eagle Station until a bank began to operate.

“See if there’s anymore,” Tim yelled, yanking open doors and hauling out the conents of the cupboards.

They pulled out everything that Ben had squirreled away over the years and with laugher and cheers they hugged their spoils to themselves while Adam and Marie looked on in stupefied horror.

“Eli … what now?” Jude cried as he held aloft a lamp, full of oil and with the flame flickering within the glass funnel. He raised an eyebrow in question, after all, there was certainly plenty for the flames to feed upon now. Eli merely heaved a deep drawn out sigh,

“Leave it be.” he said and immediately the lamp was replaced upon the centre of the table.

Marie breathed again. Her eyes looked over at her husband who was beginning to regain consciousness. She looked at Adam but could see that the youth was unable to move from where he was standing, not from fear but from sheer exhaustion. The boy was beginning to sway on his feet and then she remembered that he had been limping heavily as he had crossed the floor from the stairs to reach her side.

“Now then,” Eli spoke briskly now and turned to her, “Madam, if you would do me the honour.” he extended his hand towards her, took hold of her hand which she struggled to resist but which he gripped firmly within his own. He hauled her to her feet, “I’ll leave your husband here with his sons and his house. I’m sure he’ll be very happy with them. You, however, will come with me. Now then, “ he turned to Adam who had immediately lunged forward with a cry of protest, “Don’t get tiresome, boy, or I may just have to ask my brother to put a bullet through your skull after all.”

“You don’t imagine you’ll get far, do you?” Adam cried, “You must be mad …”

Eli struck out. His hand seized the boy by the hair and he yanked his head back as far as it would go without breaking his neck,

“Mad is not a word we like to use. It’s considered very impolite.” Eli hissed in a voice as evil as any voice could possibly be and Adam quailed beneath the look in the man’s eyes. “Don’t even think of following us or I’m afraid your Pa will be looking for another wife very soon.”

He released Adam with a push and a shove that sent the boy reeling back into the debris of the room. Then he turned away, hauling Marie along by the arm, while all the time she cried out to Ben for help.

Adam, struggling to get to his feet, felt his ankle give way beneath him and he collapsed upon the floor, aware of her cries, of footsteps fading away and the thud of the door as it closed upon them. The flame in the lamp fluttered slightly before regaining its strength and in his chair Ben struggled against the ropes that held him prisoner and unable to go to her aid.

Chapter 19

It seemed to Adam as though it took him hours to make his way through the debris littered floor to reach his father at last. Then his fingers seemed to have turned into putty as he struggled to unknot the ropes that were binding Ben securely to the chair.

Man and boy looked at one another in mute appeal as the ropes loosened, each one had but one person in mind and that was Marie.

“Where are the boys?” Ben gasped as the rope finally slid away and he could stand on his feet at last. He rubbed his wrists to get the blood flowing and some feeling in his hands again.

“With Mr Hogan.”

“Hogan?” Ben looked startled, “Is he in on all this?”

“No, I mean, not really. He found me when I really needed some help, Pa, and he came and took the boys back to his place in the wagon.”

Ben stared at his son as though it defied belief, but explanations could wait until later he decided as he began to step warily through the wrecked contents of his home,

“Well, they made a fine mess here and that’s no mistake.” he grumbled. “Go and see if Hop Sing’s alright, Adam, and then we’ll get the horses saddled and go after them. I’ll go and get the men ready to ride out as soon as possible.”

“I think the men were dealt with before they came to the house, Pa. It gave Hogan and me just enough time to get the boys out to safety, but not enough time to get here to warn you.”

“You did well, son.” Ben smiled and gave his son a hug, “Now, go and help Hop Sing.” he paused on realising his son’s difficulties in walking and held him back, “What happened to your leg?”

“It’s my foot, I twisted my ankle when I was running away from Prowse’s camp. Donald Stanley, Pa -”

“What about him?” Ben scowled remembering the comments Eli had made about the dead man and despising him for being a spy and a coward.

“He saved my life, and they killed him because of it.”

“I see, well, that redresses the balance somewhat,” Ben said quietly although the frown remained to furrow his dark brow. “Can you manage to get Hop Sing free and t hen get him to see to your ankle. I’m proud of you, son, you did very well tonight.”

“Not well enough,” Adam sighed, “I should never have let them take Ma.”

“Well, I acted like a dumb fool when it comes to that; I should have known better than to have gone off hare brained like I did.”

Adam just gave his father a long look, as though setting the anxious face in his mind before hobbling his way through to the kitchen. Hop Sing was as tightly bound up as a man could possibly be, but once the gag was taken away he gave full vent to his feelings in shrill Cantonese so that Adam became rather tempted to replace it.

“Look at kitchen -” Hop Sing lamented, “Mad men. Crazy in head. Look at all flour on floor.”

“You should see the mess they’ve made of the other room,” Adam sighed as the final knot unravelled and the cook struggled free at last.

Hop Sing was rather wobbly on his feet for a few minutes as the ropes had been unnecessarily tight but he slipped and slithered his way through the debris of broken eggs, flour and other food stuffs on the floor to gain the other room. He stared about him in amazement

“Crazy in head who did this -” he commented with a shake of his own head, “Who do it? Where is Missy?”

“They took her. Pa’s getting the men from the bunkhouse to ride with him to find her. Hop Sing, do something for my ankle, will you? I sprained it and I really need it to hurt less so I can ride with ‘em”

“You not go. You stay. You help Hop Sing clear up all mess.”

“Please, Hop Sing. They’ve got Ma, and I really need to help Pa find them. I know where their camp is, Pa doesn’t and he could lose precious time trying to find them.”

Hop Sing relented, but not without much muttering and chattering beneath his breath. He pulled off Adam’s boot and sock, examined the tender and bruised ankle and shook his head,

“Not walk on this.”

“I have to, anyway I’ll be on my horse mostly.”

“Huh, boy always has answer.”

The sprain was a severe one and anyone in their right mind would have just acquiesced and been grateful for some time to relax while it repaired itself. But Hop Sing knew Adam Cartwright well enough to know that relaxing would have to come much later. He soaked some bandages and rubbed some ointment into the affected area and then bound the ankle tightly. He shook his head repeatedly as though chiding himself for even thinking of letting the boy go with just this primitive form of help.

“You take this medicine, it dull the pain. Sometime not always good if you not feel pain, take unnecessary risk and more damage result. You be careful.”

Adam nodded, gulped down the medication and shivered. Like all boys of his age and younger medicine was medicine and not meant to be enjoyed, this certainly was not. He attempted to pull on his boot but it was impossible with the bandages so he struggled with his sock,

“Clear up as best you can, Hop Sing. Make it nice for Ma, won’t you?” he looked trustingly into the cook’s round face and the sloe black eyes twinkled

“I make nice home for Missy to come back to.” he promised and watched as the boy limped out of the room and out into the yard.

The men in the bunkhouse watched the door of the building open with some measure of fear and trepidation. One man was dead, sprawled lifeless on the floor. He had been rash enough to attempt to disarm the three men who had entered the building earlier. As a worthy visual aid his body worked wonders for every man there immediately froze and placidly allowed themselves to be trussed up like so many turkeys. Now they began the task of unbinding one another, rubbing their feet and ankles and wrists to get the circulation moving again in their limbs.

“They’ve taken my wife. Get armed and saddled up. We’ll be leaving immediately.” Ben shouted as he turned to leave the building.

“Do you know where they’re headed, boss?” Andy Peterson asked, checking the chambers of his revolver before slipping it into his holster.

“No -” Ben frowned, “We’ll pick up the trail. There’s about seven or eight of them.”

The men nodded, each one checking their pistols, pulling on their boots and grabbing for their hats and rifles.

Ben rushed to the stable and pulled Buck from the stall. He had not long had this horse but had found him to be reliable and steady on his feet. Ben was not to know just how long and how valued this association would end up becoming as he placed the saddle upon the creatures broad back.

“Pa?”

He turned and saw the dark silhouette of his son in the doorway. Behind him silver moonlight gilded the shadows of trees. For a second Ben thought it would be a scene he would never forget. Then he nodded, and continued to tighten the girth strap,

“Pa, I know where their camp is, I’ll take you there.”

“No, I want you to stay here. You’ve done enough.” Ben pulled the bit and bridle into place and looked again at Adam who was now standing by his side, the reins of a horse in his hands.

“I’m alright, Pa, Hop Sing fixed my ankle. I want to come, Pa.”

Ben shook his head, but he knew that he was glad Adam was going to be coming with them. He had relied a lot on Adam’s steadiness and courage over the years and now, with Marie’s life in danger, he knew he appreciated the thought of having his son by his side.

“Let’s get moving,” he murmured and led the way out of the stable.

Adam limped behind him, the horse he led from the stable was new and untried, but the mount he usually rode was now being ridden by Marie for Eli had brought it along with him, to flaunt under Ben’s nose as proof that his son had ‘gone’. That opportunity had not arisen, but it had given them the extra horse they needed to get Marie away.

The small convoy of men rode from the Ponderosa with only the sounds of their horses echoing in the still darkness of the night. Adam could barely believe that it had only been a matter of hours since the nightmare had begun.

Chapter 21

By the time Eli’s assorted family and Marie arrived at the camp the moon had dipped into dense cloud and the only lights showing in the camp were suspended from the wagon and on the ground close to the fire which was now burning low. Jack emerged from behind the wagon with a rifle in his hand, but seeing Eli and his nephews he relaxed and set the rifle down against the wagon wheel.

“Why’d you let the fire burn down so low fer?” David Matthews grumbled as he dismounted and walked into the camp, “I s’pose there’s no coffee decent to drink around here?”

“There’s plenty enough for all of you,” Jack replied with his hands on his hips and his brow furrowed in a scowl as he watched Marie dismount, “Who’s this?”

“This is Mrs Ben Cartwright, Jack.” Jude replied grabbing Marie by the elbow and pulling her forwards towards the elderly man, “Mrs Cartwright meet our Uncle Jack.”

“What’s she doing here?” Jack demanded of Eli who had now dismounted and was walking casually into the camp, “I don’t hold no truck with women riding along with us.”

“Just make some coffee and shut up.” was the only reply he received from Eli, who grabbed Marie by the arm away from Jude and led her to where not so long ago her step son had sat, bound against the wagon wheel. “Sit down, Mrs Cartwright, no doubt you’ll be tired after your journey. Perhaps you would like some coffee?”

“Some water, please” came the softly spoken reply and she stared past him into the shadows with her head erect and her back as straight as she could hold it.

How tired, how very tired she felt. Exhaustion came over her in waves and her back ached so much that it felt as though it were in a vice tightening and squeezing against her spine. When Eli turned away to get a canteen of water she leaned against the wagon wheel and closed her eyes.

“Why’d you bring her here?” Jack hissed, grabbing Eli by the arm and when his nephew had shaken him off he shook his head, “I don’t like taking personal grudges out on women, Eli. You’ve gone too far by doing this.”

“What are you talking about, old man?” Eli said, looking down at his Uncle as though the man were mad, “You’ve been riding with me on enough forays to be hanged ten times over, so don’t start going soft on me now.”

“It’s not a case of going soft on you. It’s the sense of the thing and it don’t make no sense having a woman with us.”

“She’s my prisoner.” Eli muttered and stooped to pick up a canteen of water, “And what happens to her is my affair and none of yours.”

This last comment aroused the interest of the cousins, as well as Jude, for they turned and drew closer in order to hear what was being said. Once again Jack grabbed at Eli’s arm,

“I’ve just had to bury Donald because of you. Like you he was my flesh and blood, and you killed him.”

“I put him out of his misery. If I hadn’t shot him he’d have died in agony from the wounds he got from Jude’s knife. If your conscience has just kicked in now you can blame Jude. He killed Donald, and let me remind you, Donald asked for it.”

“Whether he did or not doesn’t matter, he was still my nephew like you are, like these boys are -” he encompassed the men grouped there with a wide wave of his arm, “I raised you and Jude, but I didn’t expect the day would come when I’d see you both turn killers of your own kin.”

“What’s got into you, old man? You turned yellow while we’ve been gone, is that it?
Started thinking of kith and kin while burying Donald?” Eli once again pushed the old man aside, “You won’t feel so bad when you see what we’ve brought with us.” and he snapped his fingers and beckoned to Tim and Hank to draw closer.

His cousins did so, bringing with them the sacks of gold they had taken from Ben’s study. There was gold dust intermingled with sizeable gold flakes in one bag, and in several of the others there were gold nuggets. Jack looked at them and then at Tim and Hank who were once again exclaiming in excitement over their prize. He shook his head and sighed before walking away,

“He’s gone soft,” Jude muttered watching his Uncle stride to the wagon, “he’s always been a bit soft where women were concerned.”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t have brought her with us, Eli” Henry said quietly, “What are you going to do with her anyway?”

“You’ll see.” Eli replied with a slight shrug of the shoulders, “don’t worry about Jack, he’s probably tired. He’ll be alright later. Get the camp ready for leaving. I don’t want to be here if Cartwright comes looking for us.”

Tim scowled and Henry shook his head. Dave and Pete stood a little far off as thought waiting to see the outcome of what was said,

“Can‘t we get some sleep?” Tim asked, drawing tightly the string around the bag of gold in his hand.

“Not unless you want it to be your last,” Eli said coldly.

“Cartwright wouldn’t be nosing around if you left the woman behind.” Henry said, and he shook his head, “We’re tired, Eli. I can understand your point of view but …”

“Get some coffee inside yourselves and prepare to leave within the hour. Cartwright won’t take long to follow us and I want as much distance between us as possible.”

“Perhaps we should split,” Tim said very quietly, and he weighed the bag of gold in his hand as though considering just how much it would weigh if split seven ways.

“We stick together,” Eli replied, then he shrugged, “Unless the rest of you agree with Tim and want to split. If you do you can sleep here, but Jude and I will go on. That leaves you facing the Cartwrights on your own.”

They looked at one another, there were various shakes of the head and shrugged shoulders but each went to the fire, poured out their mugs of coffee and left the brothers standing alone together. The two sets of brothers split of into two groups muttering together and Jude cast an anxious eye to his brother,

“What do we do?.” Jude said with a brusqueness that brooked no further comment from any of them.

“We rest up, have coffee and move on. What they do is up to them.”

“What about the gold?”

“We’ll take our share, and the woman.”

Jude said nothing, his brow creased as though pondering the idea, and he took a firmer hold of the rifle. It was Eli who poured the coffee for himself and Jude, and then left his brother by the campfire where he seemed quite prepared to stay with his rifle by his side as a companion. It suited Eli well enough. He took his rifle up and with the canteen of water in the other hand he walked towards where Marie was sitting.

Once more she summoned all her resources within her to appear calm. She was feeling ill now, the pain in her back was not subsiding and weariness continued to wash over her like the waves of the sea. Ebbing and flowing, only faster and faster all the time. When he pushed the canteen into her hand she was more than happy to grab it from him and drink the liquid in long gulps.

He stood there and watched her as the water trickled down her chin and throat. It didn’t occur to her, nor any other there, that he was actually wondering why he had taken her with them instead of carrying out his original plan. Now he wondered what exactly he was going to do with her. After some minutes had elapsed he pulled up the barrel and sat down on it,

“Where do you come from?” he asked abruptly, “Are you from Boston? Did you know Elizabeth?”

She sagged back against the wheel of the wagon, and closed her eyes. She wanted to sleep. To close her eyes and drift into the dark womb of sleep. Perhaps then she would not feel the pain and could garner more strength for whatever was to happen when Ben arrived for she was quite confident that he would do so, and sooner rather than later.

“No, I didn’t know her. Ben talks of her, of course, but I didn’t know Elizabeth.” she spoke in a sigh, her voice ebbed away, but she opened her eyes and looked at him.

He was looking intently at her as though what she had to say was of real interest to him. The fanatical cold blank look in his eyes was now replaced with something akin to sincere interest and this caught her by surprise. She blinked, licked her lips, and took several more sips of the water.

“I’m from New Orleans. That’s where I met Ben.”

“In New Orleans? That’s a fair distance from here, what was he doing there?”

“Business and a personal matter.” she held up the canteen of water to him, “Thank you for the water, Mr Prowse.”

“What was the personal matter? Was it a woman?”

She looked at him and for an instant the cold angry look in his eyes gleamed there again. She shook her head,

“No. My husband, my first husband that is, was a friend of Ben’s and he died here, on the Ponderosa. Ben was kind enough to travel to New Orleans to let me know.”

“And captured your heart.” Eli said with a sneer of contempt in his voice.

“No, not at first. My respect -” she sighed and looked down at the ground, “Why do you hate him so much, Mr Prowse?”

Eli Prowse frowned. He liked sitting here with this woman. He had always found it comfortable talking to women, and now, with the lamp light shining from behind him casting his face in shadow hiding his strangeness and the ugly scar, he could appear like any normal human being, which he sometimes enjoyed pretending he was for the time it suited him.

“Sometimes you just meet someone who is just so much the opposite of oneself that you hate them. There’s no reason for that, it just happens.”

“But to pursue him as you have done,” she paused and placed a hand upon her lap for the heaviness of the pistol had made her aware of its presence and of the fact that he might notice it. “How long have you been searching for him?”

“Your husband took from me something I treasured more than anything in the world. You don’t understand, Mrs Cartwright, just how much I loved Elizabeth. But it wasn’t that I loved her, nor because she was so lovely and gentle and good, but because she was my salvation. She was my only hope of ever being different from what I am. Do you understand what I mean?”

“Not exactly. I think I do, but not really.” she replied honestly, actually surprised at herself that she could answer and talk to him this intimately.

“I’ve had a hard life, Jude and I both -” he sighed, and to gain time to gather his thoughts he concentrated a while in putting the stopper in the water canteen, “Our parents died of some sickness and Jack raised us. My nature is – as it is,” he turned and hung the canteen on a nail protruding from the wooden sides of the wagon, “and it soured the more as I grew in age. Jude and I went to sea and worked hard, but it was a rough life and you got by but not by being gentlemen. To survive the knocks you had to make sure you were the one to give ’em out. Then I met Elizabeth.”

“And you loved her?”

“Yes. I hadn’t had time for love before and she was very young, a mere child really. Over the years I watched her grow up into a young woman. When I was with her, in her company, I wanted to be like her, to be what she would have wanted me to be rather than what I was. I knew if she were to become my wife she would save me, she would make me whole.”

She understood then. She leaned back against the wagon wheel and closed her eyes, folded her hands in her lap. He didn’t want to talk anymore for he got to his feet and walked to the fire to sit with Jude. He cradled his rifle in his arms and scowled into the flames.

So this demon was human after all. The scar on his face marred his physical looks and nothing could change that. The scars he carried within him marred the man he was inside, and he had longed for a healing of those wounds and been denied the chance.

Chapter 22.

Marie tried to sleep. Unsure as to how long she would get the chance she seized the opportunity to do so but the pain in her back was hard to bear and it was slowly gathering a momentum that she recognised as something all too familiar.
Since Joseph had been born Marie had longed for another baby. She had bloomed in her pregnancy and despite the delivery being premature and difficult the love she had formed for her little baby boy was overwhelming.

She had sometimes discussed her wish for another baby with her husband; perhaps this time a daughter she would say to Ben coaxingly. Ben had not discouraged her but had merely said that nature would take its course and he would love another if it came but was not unduly concerned it one did not.

She had cherished this little secret for two precious months now. It would have been this week after the Sunday evening meal that she had planned to tell him her news. Her secret. Now as the pains squeezed her spine and travelled through to her abdomen she realised that if help did not come soon there would be no secret to tell him at all. She remained very still. Very still, She closed her eyes and prayed that if there were a God in that majestic heaven He would send Ben to protect her and keep the child safe.

She was so deep within her own thoughts that the sounds of movement all around her passed her by and it was not until a rough hand gripped her arm and hauled her to her feet that she realised that the men were moving out and she was going to have to go with them.

The pain made her cry out and she doubled over, staggered a little and would have fallen to her knees had not Jack put his arm around her and supported her.

“What’s wrong, Ma’am? Are you hurt?”

A kind voice in such an environment, she could have wept. As it was she put a hand on his and gripped it tight,

“I think I’m losing my baby …”

“What’s going on over there?” Jude yelled as he heaped dirt onto the remains of the fire. “Hurry up and get her on her horse.”

“Please, I can’t …” she groaned and the warmth of blood loss confirmed her fears, “Not a horse ride. Please let me ride in the wagon?”

Pete came by now and at a sign from his Uncle helped lift her up and into the interior of the wagon. It was dark inside but private. Jack settled her onto some blankets that provided a soft bedding for her to rest upon.

“Get a canteen of water,” Jack told Pete, who promptly disappeared.

It was Eli who arrived with the canteen, and a demand to know what was going on.
He passed the canteen to Jack and listened as the old man told him of Marie’s suspicions. With a hiss of annoyance he turned away and stalked over to his horse,

“Let’s get out of here.” he yelled and promptly spurred his horse into action.

The wagon lurched as the two horses pulled it forward. Inside Marie hugged herself into a tight ball and rocked too and fro with pain. It was painful, too painful for words and the fact that she was being taken further and further from Ben and her boys broke her heart. Perhaps she would die, she told herself, die far away from them without them ever knowing …

The moon had no compassion now. It remained hidden behind the clouds and in darkness the men from the Ponderosa galloped along the track that Adam insisted would lead to the Prowse camp. Dark were the thoughts of Ben as he galloped onwards. Fear of losing Marie had always clouded his joy of his marriage to her, and now it seemed that the loss was about to happen. He felt as wretched as a man could ever feel and his heart slowly shattered like glass at every inch they travelled.

Chapter 23.

“Mr Cartwright?” Toby Hendrickson had urged his horse forward to enable him to ride alongside his employer, “Mr Cartwright?”

Was the man deaf? Or so obsessed with finding the men who had Marie that he preferred not to hear? Hendrickson was about to yell even louder when Ben sensed his nearness and turned towards him,

“Well, what have you to say, man?”

“It’s too dark, sir. We can’t see any tracks in this and we’re all mighty tired, sir. Couldn’t we just stop for a short break? Some of the men -”

“They do have my wife with them, Hendrickson.” Ben yelled angrily, “Stop if you wish to do so, and catch me up.”

“Pa?”

The urgent cry of his son’s voice forced him to turn from Hendrickson to Adam, who had brought his horse to a halt. Every man there, including Ben, was forced to stop and wait as the youth turned his horse around to trot towards Ben’s side,

“Pa, they’ve gone.”

“Gone? Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I thought a while back that I was nearing the campsite and should have seen the sign of their campfire by now. But I’ve just ridden right into where they had been and they’ve gone.”

“You could be mistaken,” Ben said in an attempt to muster his patience, “It’s dark and you didn’t actually take this trail from the place in which you were held captive. It’s possible that we have some way to go yet.”

“No, it is the place, Pa. I know it is because -” he paused as he struggled with his feelings before he sighed, “There’s a freshly dug grave quite close to the fire. The fire’s still warm. We could be just an hour or two away from them.”

Ben felt his heart lurch. He glanced up to the sky and closed his eyes before bowing his head in defeat. He turned to Hendrickson,

“We’ll camp here. Rebuild up the fire and tell the men to get a few hours sleep. We won‘t be able to follow their tracks in this darkness.”

Hendrickson nodded and turned his horse to rejoin the men. In silent compliance with their employer’s request they began to make a hurried camp and gratefully slipped into sleep.

Ben and Adam likewise dismounted. Neither one of them spoke a word to the other although both longed to be able to express something of encouragement or consolation to the other. In silence they joined the men, wrapped blankets around themselves and attempted to sleep.

………..

The wagon lurched on. Sometimes Marie could hear the grating of the wheel against a boulder and prepare herself for the shock as the wagon would crunch down after passing it by. She lay upon the bedding in a state of numb torpor for the pain so enclosed itself around her back and abdomen that it exhausted her. Yet the exhaustion was not eased by her sleeping which was impossible. She had made valiant attempts to sleep, snatched moments of it only to awaken with the pain causing her to groan aloud. She knew without doubt now that the baby was gone, the secret was over, and the only the pain remained. There were moments in her agony when she longed for death’s sweet sleep but the pain always kept her awake.

The day had arrived. She could see through the slit in the tarpaulin that the sky was blue again, and the sun was shining. Perhaps she had indeed slept through the moment of the suns rising but in her pain drugged mind she was totally unaware of when it had happened. The wagon just continued to lumber on, rocking from side to side, crunching up and down over boulders.

Every so often she would drink the water from the canteen and then roll onto her back to feel the coolness of it slacken the thirst and cool her throat. How she longed to have Ben nearby who would come and take her in his arms and assure her that all would be well.

She saw her baby boy laughing up at her and putting out his chubby hands towards her. He was so small, so delicate. She closed her eyes and forced herself to smell the smell of him, the warmth of his arms and the touch of his hair upon her face when he cuddled into her neck.

“Where are you, sweetheart?” she whispered to herself and then another spasm of pain seized her. How long, she wondered, was this going to last. For how much longer could she endure it?

Eli rode up to the wagon in order to ride alongside it for a while. Jack said nothing to him for some moments, waiting for his nephew to speak.

“How is she?” Eli asked at last.

“How’d I know?” the old man snapped back in response, “She’s in a mighty lot of pain, that I do know. She’s been moaning and a-groaning in there and there ain’t nothing I can do to help her. This ain’t right, Eli.”

“What would you have preferred, Jack? If I had stuck to my original plan she’d be dead by now. Of course,” Eli shrugged and looked at his Uncle with a sneer on his lips, “as you wouldn’t have seen it you wouldn’t have minded so much, would you?
Out of sight, out of mind with you, isn’t it? You don’t like it when it’s on your doorstep and you have to deal with it.”

“Donald said she was a good woman, and I believe he was right -”

“Just shut your mouth, old man. Donald’s dead and if you carry on like this, you will be too before long.”

Eli turned the horse away from the wagon now, putting spurs to the beasts flanks in order to distance himself from his Uncle, Marie and the responsibility the old man was trying to force upon his shoulders. He galloped to the head of the small troop of men riding through what was now the harsher parts of the Ponderosa, where the heat scorched the earth and the stones and boulders burned in the sun.

“What’s going on with Jack?” Jude asked as he joined his brother.

“He’s fretting over the woman.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

Eli said nothing but shrugged his shoulders. Jude frowned and lowered his hat over his face,

“The boys are tired, Eli. They need to rest up.”

“Not here. We need to get into that valley and among the trees. Just tell the boys another hour should do it.”

Jude shrugged now, turned the horse around and returned to where his cousins were riding in a bunch together. Behind them came the wagon with Jack looking dour and sour.

Chapter 24

Marie could sense they were entering a place where there were trees. Shadows drifted as patterns on the canvas above her head and there was a coolness to the air. Her body felt heavy and languid as though it had forgotten how to function until a spasm of pain would seize her, tighten around her before releasing her again. She knew that the bleeding had not stopped and if it continued as it was the likelihood of her bleeding to death was more than possible.

The passage through the trees was pleasant with no ruts and boulders for the wagon to bounce off. It rolled along smoothly as Jack followed behind Eli and Jude. The two sets of other brothers had split into two groups and followed the wagon.

“We’ll camp here.” Eli announced suddenly, “We may be only a matter of hours ahead of the Cartwrights so don’t sleep too heavily. A wagons wheels arn’t so easy to hide.”

He remained in the saddle watching as they immediately forged into one group together. Then, in silence, he turned his horse around and sent it galloping into the timberland.

“Whar’s he going to?” Peter asked Jude but his cousin merely shrugged his shoulders in reply.

Jack didn’t unharness the horses. If the Cartwright’s were to come he wanted to be ready to make as fast an exit as he possibly could. Little point in fumbling around with buckles and reins at times like that even if he rushed as fast as possible. He may be old, he mused, but life was still precious.

He walked around to the back of the wagon and pulled back the tarpaulin. As he stepped inside he heard the ominous click of a trigger being pulled back and found himself staring down the barrel of a gun.

“Whar in tarnation did you get that? I thought you was sick. You mean you been lying to me all along?” he growled.

“I want you to get back on the wagon seat and take me home.” Marie said as evenly as possible. “If you don’t I’ll – I’ll shoot you. I don’t want to, you’ve shown me some kindness, but I need to get home.”

“Sure you do, and I need a hole in my head and whether the bullet comes from you or Eli it amounts to the same thing in the end. Put the gun down, Ma’am, and let me make you something hot to drink.”

“I don’t want something to drink. I need help. I really need help.” Marie cried, and the gun wavered and shook in her hand, as the pain once again enveloped her and she had to bow her head and arch her body to go with the pain by which time Jack had entered the wagon and taken the gun from her limp hand.

“Ma’am, just be patient. I’ll do what I can. Now, I’m going to get a hot drink for you, keep the blanket around you and – and try to keep calm. Here’s your gun, just don’t shoot anyone, alright?”

Marie said nothing, she was too busy fighting her own battle for survival to worry about guns and bullets. Jack did not take long to get something hot for her to drink and he poured a dash of brandy from his own store into it in order to fortify her a little.

“How’s the lady?” Henry asked as Jack passed him with the mug of steaming liquid in his hand, “Is she doing alright?”

“Can’t rightly say.” Jack replied gravely.

“Eli’s going to kill her, you know. Once he see’s Ben Cartwright coming through those trees he’ll just haul her out of the wagon and shoot her like he did Donald.”

Jack sighed heavily and looked thoughtfully at Henry who was one of the youngest of the nephews there. He glanced around at them all, huddled in blankets trying to get something to drink and eat, with their eyes heavy with sleep. If Ben Cartwright arrived right now, he thought, he could just stroll in with no problem whatsoever. Jude alone was standing stiffly alert, his rifle in the crook of his arm and his eyes searching everywhere.

“Look here, Henry, do you reckon on everyone being really tired now?”

“Don’t need to reckon on it,” Henry shrugged, “We’re all dead on our feet.”

“Then if you hear the wagon at all you don’t think you’ll notice it ?”

Henry frowned and glanced over to the wagon,

“What’s with you, old man, you gone soft like Eli reckons?”

“No. I’m jest recalling to mind the time when your Ma needed help when you were being born, young Henry. No one came near and she struggled to birth you on her own. A real puny thing you were then and she nearly died too.”

“Mebbe so, but she -” Henry jerked his head in the direction of the wagon, “she ain’t having a baby.”

“No, she’s losing one.” Jack replied steadily and he gave his nephew a significant look that the younger man acknowledged with a lowering of his head.

The mug rattled against her teeth for she was now so weak and exhausted by her ordeal that she couldn’t stop shivering. Her eyes spoke her thanks and then she fell back against the bedding. For a moment Jack surveyed her thoughtfully before he got down from the wagon to stand still and thoughtful for a moment or two.

The men had now finished their rushed meal and now settled to have a brief sleep. Henry raised his hat to watch his uncle but lowered it when Jack crossed the ground to approach Jude.

“Jude?”

“What do you want?”

“I need to talk to Eli.”

“Well, you can see that he ain’t here.”

“Then could you get him for me?”

The two men stared into each other’s faces, and Jude scowled and shook his head. Jack sighed and looked down, he scuffed the ground with his booted foot as though thinking seriously about something, before he looked up again,

“Perhaps you had better go and get him, Jude.”

“I told you -”

“And I’m telling you, you had better go and get him.”

Jude set his mouth tight, and his eyes were hot with anger but Jack knew that beneath the anger was fear, fear of him who had raised him, and fear of his brother.

“Just remember to whom you owe most, Jude.”

Jude shook his head as though he didn’t want to hear what Jack had said, nor acknowledge the meaning of the words. Jack turned his back on him and returned to the wagon.

He waited a mere five minutes before he heard Jude’s horse galloping into the timberland. Wherever Eli was, Jude was sure to find him, he always did. So there really wasn’t much time to waste hanging around now. Jack had the wagon turned and rolling out of the camp before Jude had gone a hundred yards into the trees.

Chapter 25.

The man chopping wood outside the cabin paused to wipe his brow and watch the wagon as it lumbered towards him. He called his wife who came from the barn, a pail of fresh milk in her hands.

The smoke from the cabin’s chimney had coiled skywards and been a blessing in disguise to Jack. It meant he didn’t have to go all the way back to the Ponderosa and that the woman in the wagon would get some help sooner rather than later.

“What can I do for you, Mister?” the homesteader called out, edging closer to the stack of logs where he had placed his rifle.

“I need your help, and that of your missus,” Jack replied, leaning forward with the reins slack in his hands, “I’ve a sick woman here in the wagon. She needs a doctor.”

“Then she’ll have to keep on needing. There’s ain’t no doctor hereabouts. You’d need to go into Carson City for that kinda help.”

“Too far for me to go and she’s in desperate straits, Mister. Can I leave her to you and your wife to care for? I think she’s miscarrying a baby.”

The woman, listening to the conversation, gave a cry of sympathy and set down the pail of milk to run to her husband’s side,

“Norman, we must help, poor woman, poor woman.” and she wrung her hands and hurried to the back of the wagon. “Quickly Norman, quickly now.”

Norman was a big strapping man and it took him little time to lift Marie into his arms and carry her into the little cabin. He set her down gently upon the settle and looked at his wife,

“I know this woman, Maggie, it’s Ben Cartwright’s wife.” he whispered, “How come she’s here in this sad state?”

“Don’t waste time asking fool questions like that, Norman.” Maggie replied, “Just get some water and some clothes.”

“If Ben Cartwright thinks we’ve had a hand in this harm to her he’ll likely run us off our land, Maggie.”

Maggie cast a scornful look at her husband and shook her head,

“Just do as I say, and stop yammering nonsense.”

Jack had not wasted time listening or waiting to answer questions. He had remounted the wagon seat and turned the team around to return to where Eli and his other nephews were waiting. He had long ago decided there was no God so didn’t pray any thanks for the provision of the little cabin, he just considered it mighty fortunate that such help had appeared at just the right time and in just the right place.

………………….

Eli Prowse sat very still in the saddle as he looked down from the rocky ridge of the butte upon which the horse and rider were poised. From this vantage point he watched the progress of the wagon from the camp site until it had disappeared into the trees and from his view.

He never moved an inch but waited to see whereabouts it would reappear. He could see the coils of smoke coming in various directions where small homesteads had been built and not so far from where they were camped. He turned over in his mind what had happened and correctly guessed that Jack had taken it upon himself to get the woman to safety. He gave a mental shrug, it didn’t matter to him what happened to the woman. He had seized her upon a whim because he wanted to hurt Ben Cartwright in the way he himself had been hurt. The pain in the heart from the loss of the beloved.

No, it didn’t matter to him what happened to Marie. What did matter was the effect Jack’s act of independence would have on the rest of the family. They would listen to Jack because for years he had had a near fatherly role among them all. Eli did not forget that for himself and Jude the man had raised them both when their own parents had died.

He thought of each one of his cousins individually as he sat there waiting for the wagon to reappear. He knew their weaknesses and their strengths. Most of them were bullies and the ones who were not were the ones bullied. They were all greedy and selfish, all of them had enjoyed the benefits of riding together over the years, creating mischief wherever possible. But lately the enthusiasm was lacking. There had been a restlessness amongst them. Eli knew that the main cause of that restlessness was Jack.

“Eli?”

He turned as Jude appeared and rode to his side. He didn’t move but to give a slight nod of satisfaction as the wagon suddenly emerged, returning to the camp. So Jack had disposed of the woman and Eli’s guess was that it would be at the home of the nearest homestead, close to the border of Ponderosa land.

“Are you alright?” Jude asked.

“How much gold did you get from the Cartwrights?” Eli replied as his eyes followed the wagon weaving its way through the trees.

“Two bags.”

“Where are they?”

“In my saddlebags of course.”

“Good.” Eli nodded and turned his horse round, “Let’s go.”

Jude nodded and followed his brother down through the boulders and rocks until they had reached level ground again. It was here that Jude got a surprise for instead of turning in the direction of the camp Eli rode in the opposite direction.

“Where are you going?”

“Not back with them. We can do without them now.”

“But they’re family, Eli”

Eli paused and drew in his horse. He turned to face his brother and Jude felt his mouth run dry and a shiver touch his heart,

“What’s wrong, Eli? What are you going to do?”

“You never questioned me before, Jude. You just used to follow – remember?”

“Sure, Eli.”

“Well now,” Eli shrugged, “I’m giving you a choice. You can go back with them and face the consequences. Or you can come with me. If you choose to go with them then we’re through. I won’t recognise you as kin to me anymore.”

“You won’t what? But, Eli, I’m your brother?” Jude protested opening his eyes as wide as he could, “You can’t mean that – not what you’ve just said?”

“Every word, Jude.”

He turned his horse around and set it into a fast trot as though he wanted to distance himself from them all as fast as he could. He didn’t turn round to see in which direction Jude chose to ride. If he had been perfectly honest he would have had to tell his brother that he didn’t really care one way or the other.

Chapter 26

With a finger to his lip and a gun in his other hand Ben Cartwright very cautiously approached the small encampment. His men were closing in upon the men who were either sleeping or preparing something to eat over the rather meagre campfire. The wagon was in the background with the horses still harnessed and ready to leave at a moment’s notice although Jack had presumably felt it safe to cat nap upon his return from the homestead.

Henry poured out the hot liquid and glanced around the camp. It had been some hours since Jude had left them to find Eli and neither man had returned. There had been no gun shots heard to indicate any gunplay had been involved nor the sound of galloping horses . He had actually fallen asleep fully expecting to find his cousins with them. He squatted down and cupped his hands around the mug,

“No sign of Eli or Jude?” Peter Matthews yawned as he approached the fire, “They didn’t come back?”

“No, not unless they’re in the wagon.”

“Just asked Jack. He said he ain’t seen hide nor hair of ‘em. Good riddance I say.”

Henry frowned and looked thoughtfully at his cousin before looking again into the flames,

“What do you think Jack did with that woman?”

“Dunno. Didn’t ask. Perhaps she died and he’s buried her along with Donald.”

Henry shivered at the thought. He had liked Donald but hadn’t respected him. He thought over the events of the previous day and evening and shook his head,

“You know, Pete, it’s been a strange set up this thing with Eli and the Cartwrights. Donald must have thought them a good kind of people to be so prepared to die for them. He must have known he’d end up dead the way he went for Jude …”

“I know.” Pete frowned, “It’s best not to get too involved with it all. They had a nice place, the kind I’d have liked if I ever married and settled down.”

“Who’d have you?” Henry smiled good naturedly and Pete laughed low in his throat.

“Did you get much gold?” Pete then asked very quietly, moving a little nearer to Henry.

“Not as much as Jude nor Tim” Henry smiled, “But Tim will share his out with me so nothing to worry about… oh, morning, Jack.”

Jack nodded his greetings and picked up the coffee pot,

“No sign of Jude or Eli?”

“No. I thought I heard something a bit earlier on, but it weren’t nothing.” Pete replied.

“Oh?” Jack straightened up, and reached for the rifle that he had propped nearby, “What kind of something?”

“An animal moving through the shrugs, maybe the horses -” Pete shrugged.

“Just how sure are you of that? If the Cartwrights have tracked us down,” Jack hissed between his teeth, “they could be all around us by now.”

“You could be right at that,” a deep voice murmured close enough to them to make Pete jump out of his skin. “Just put the weapons down and no one need get hurt.”

It was Timothy Jackson who decided to play hero that morning. Awakened by the sound of voices he had listened to his cousin and brother talking together but he also had heard some other sound. As Ben stepped into the camp it was Timothy who pulled out his gun and fired off several shots which scattered the men everywhere.

Jack ran with his rifle to the cover of the wagon all the time shouting for his nephews to put their guns down and surrender. He would have achieved far more success had he stayed where he had been and just raised his hands but perhaps knowing his family so well he may well have guessed he would have been the first victim of any gunfire.

Ben threw himself down and rolled into the shadow of the undergrowth while his men fired back onto the others. In what had been a peaceful quiet place of calm there was now a cacophony of raucous noise as pistols and rifles were fired, the smell of cordite rose in the air, the horses squealed and fought to get loose.

………….

Eli Prowse did not stop when the sound of gun fire rolled through the air. He kept his face turned towards the sun and kept riding. Who lived and who died was immaterial to him now. He had two sacks of gold in his panniers and perhaps his heart had grown another layer of ice around it.

Jude Prowse lay face down upon the rocks. He had made the wrong choice a few hours earlier. Eli had decided that he didn’t really want his little brother riding off with the cousins, not with the gold. It had been a quiet ending for Jude and a swift one. His life’s blood was black upon the rocks from the stab wound that had ended his life.

……………….

“Hush now, my dear, hush,” Maggie smiled at the young woman whose head she had cradled in her arm while she held a glass of water to the pale lips, “Just drink this down now, and you’ll feel much better.”

“Who are you?” Marie whispered struggling to see clearly now. The blood loss had been prolonged and left her in a feverish shock. Maggie had been a calm and efficient nurse having stemmed the bleeding, but she knew it would take time for the woman to recover, and now smiled at her again with kindly eyes and a soft voice,

“You’re safe, and you will be well again soon, I promise you.” she reassured Marie and carefully let her back down upon the pillows. “My husband, Norman and I, we live close by your borders, Mrs Cartwright. We’ve been here just on a year now.”

“Maggie?”

“Yes, that’s right, Mrs Cartwright. My husband said he’ll go and get your husband as soon as he knows what you want him to say.”

“The baby?” Marie whispered and her hands went automatically to her stomach. How often over the past few weeks had she done that as she smugly kept her little secret and wondered about how big it would be and what sex it would be … oh all that hope and all those dreams gone for nothing now.

“I doubt if there’s a baby there now, dear.” Maggie looked down at her with kindly eyes and took hold of the trembling hands, “Try and sleep now. You need to calm yourself and rest, that’s what your body needs.”

“But my husband?”

Maggie was about to speak when Norman came into the cabin. It was a small dwelling consisting of one large room with heavy blankets suspended here and there to form makeshift walls. He pulled aside the blanket that separated where Marie was resting from the main room, and peered inside,

“There’s gun fire from a few miles away. I’d best go and see -”

“Stay here.” Maggie replied crisply, “Don’t interfere. I’ve not come all this way to have you wander off and end up dead or in trouble. Just wait awhile until Mrs Cartwright can give you a message for her husband.”

“But what if -”

“Norman, there are no what if’s. Just do as I say.”

Norman sighed and nodded. He let the curtain drop behind him and walked over to the door of the cabin and peered outside. He looked over to where the gunshots had come from for now there was just silence and he wondered if he had imagined it all.

Chapter 27

Now there was silence. Such a profound silence that it made the ears ring after the brief interlude of so much noise. It left each man there holding their breath and wondering what was going to happen next.

When Ben had fallen at the onset of the gunfire Adam had felt his heart leap to his mouth and was almost physically sick. Seeing his father by his side and urging his men to return fire Adam had been filled with the desire to throw his arms around his father’s neck in just the same manner as Little Joe ever could have done.

But now the gunfire was over and out of the silence came the groans of wounded men, and the sound of others running away through the undergrowth, only to be rounded up by the men from the Ponderosa and brought into the centre of the camp.

“How are the men?” Ben asked Eddy who gave a sigh and a nod before replying to tell him that there were no serious casualties among the men but there was one dead and two injured of the others.

From his position near the wagon Jack watched as his family were grouped together. He noticed Adam and called his name, beckoning him over with what little strength he had left in his body to do so.

Rather cautiously Adam limped over to Jack and knelt at his side,

“Tell him -” Jack gasped.

“Tell who?”

“Mr Cartwright – you have to tell him – “Jack grabbed at Adam’s arm in a convulsive movement that resembled that of a vice, “Eli -”

“What about him? Where is he?” the boy demanded.

“Only a young boy – Pawnee came and took ‘em – Eli had to watch what happened to his folk.” Jack wheezed and shivered violently, “Look, he was only a child when he saw that happen. It did something -.”

Adam sighed and put his hand on the fellow’s arm as the grip tightened even more, he glanced over his shoulder for his father, but now Jack grabbed at his shirt to pull him closer

“I took her – your Ma – homestead not far off. She was ill -”

“Ma was ill? What happened to her?”

“I took her – homestead -” Jack groaned and the death rattle gripped his throat, he shuddered and then the grip on Adam’s arm was loosened as the old man fell onto his back onto the ground.

Henry was injured with a wound in the thigh but he was suffering more from the loss of his brother, Timothy, who had died by his side. Pete was also nursing a wound which Eddy was roughly binding up.

“Pa?” Adam hurried to his father’s side and called to him with fear filled eyes, “Pa, Jack told me Ma was ill.”

“Ill?” Ben spun round and gripped his son by both arms, “Ill? Where is she?”

“He said he took her to a homestead nearby.”

Ben turned to look at Henry who was sitting with bowed head close by,

“Do you know what happened to my wife?”

“Why should I tell you, you just killed my brother.” Henry growled in reply and kept his head lowered.

Adam sighed, and looked around him at the small battleground for such it was now, with the dead and wounded scattered about and the blood spilled out on the ground and the cordite burning ones nostrils. He felt a wave of sympathy for Henry, for he knew that he would die himself rather than any harm befall his brothers.

Perhaps Henry saw the look on Adam’s face and the instinctive kindness in the man decided him to speak up, he called Ben over

“Look, your wife was taken ill. Jack put her in the wagon and when Eli rode out of her, Jack took her to a homestead close by. It can’t be far, he was there and back within an hour.”

“What was wrong with her?” Ben asked, “Did any of you harm her? Eli? Did he …?”

“No one touched her, Mr Cartwright,” Dave Matthews said quickly, “She was a nice lady, and Jack wanted to help her is all.”

Ben’s mouth tightened and he called Eddy over,

“Bind these men up and take them to Carson City. Don’t let them get away. Tell the sheriff there exactly what has happened here and then return to the Ponderosa.”

Eddy nodded and strode away. He beckoned to several men and repeated the orders to them. It was as they came to haul Henry to his feet that the man yelled out,

“Jack said she was losing a baby, that was what was wrong. She was losing a baby.”

Chapter 27

“What did you say?”

The words trembled on the air as Ben struggled to force them through his lips. He turned to face Henry who looked into the face of his adversary and saw the stark amazement on the latter’s face. That streak of cruelty that seemed to run through the whole family now reasserted itself, his face twisted into a parody of the smile Eli would use in just such a situation. He merely shrugged and looked away.

“I said – what did you say?” Ben growled and his deep voice sounded every bit the fog horn that his dear Elizabeth would so often refer to it. To emphasise the fact that he was not going to stand any nonsense Ben grabbed at the man’s shirt front and forced him to turn to face him.

His black eyes were now bright with the fury that Henry’s attitude had stung him into and beneath such a fury Henry quailed,

“I said, she was losing a baby.” he stuttered, “Leave me alone, can’t you see I’m injured?”

It was Adam who placed a restraining hand on his father’s arm for he knew the temper of his father and that Ben would have shaken Henry until his teeth rattled had he the chance.

“Pa, it won’t be hard to find her. We only need to follow the wagon’s tracks, they’ll be fresh and it won’t take us long to reach this homestead.”

Ben gave Henry a final shake and then released him, sending the wretch stumbling back against Pete.

“Get them out of my sight,” he hissed to Eddy and Hendrickson, “As fast as you can -.”

………..

Marie Cartwright raised her head and looked around the room. She must have fallen asleep for the room looked so different from what she had expected to find upon waking. She could remember being taken away from her home but everything from there on in seemed a blur. A man with cold eyes and a scar on his face but old and stooped or were they different men? She settled back against the pillows and closed her eyes.

She heard a woman singing and the mewling sound of a baby. She smiled softly to herself, soon she would also have a baby to croon songs to again. Perhaps a baby who would look just like Joe, perhaps a little girl and she would call her Angelique which was a favoured name in her family.
“Hush, little baby, don’t you cry,
Mama’s gonna sing you a lullaby.”

She listened and hummed the song softly with her eyes closed. She remembered how she would cradle Joe in her arms and look down upon his face and sing to him until his eyelids fluttered and closed. Then she would kiss gently his eyes and the tip of his little upturned nose before settling him down in his crib. When she returned home she resolved to herself to trim the crib prettily with lace and ribbons.

The curtain was pulled apart and a man peeked into the room. Marie could not recall seeing Norman before, her memory of men taking her from her home flooded into her mind and she shrunk back against the covers with a cry of horror on her lips.

“It’s alright, Mrs Cartwright. It’s me, Norman Hawkins.”

“Out of the way, Norman. Mrs Cartwright obviously can’t remember you. Take the baby, dear, and let me see to her.”

The comforting words said in such a kindly matronly manner calmed Marie sufficiently to cast a look of apology at the hapless Norman while his strong minded wife stepped into the ‘room’ and sat down upon the little basket chair beside the bed,

“How are you feeling now, Mrs Cartwright? Are you rested more? Would you like some tea and something to eat?”

“You know me?” Marie felt confused as she looked into the woman’s face, yes, she could remember her now, she had seen this kind face before – somewhere – she shook her head, “I’m sorry, I feel so confused. I remember now, I have seen you before, haven’t I?”

“You’re bound to be confused, dear. You’ve gone through quite an ordeal. I think the shock of what has happened to you has weakened you a little more than you realise but that’s only to be expected.”

“Some men came and took me from the Ponderosa.”

“Yes, that’s right. But one of them came and brought you here when he realised that you were unwell.” Maggie stood up, “I’ll get you something to eat. You need some good beef broth inside you to build your blood up now.”

“I do?” Marie frowned. “I’m sorry, I can’t remember your names?”

“Maggie and Norman Hawkins.” she smiled and pulled the curtain to one side, “I hope you won’t mind with the baby, Ma’am, she’s only a few weeks old now and may cause you a little sadness on account of what has happened. I’ll try and keep her as quiet as I can so as not to disturb you.”

The curtain fell and left Marie looking at the gaily patterned material and wondering why the cry and sound of a baby would distress her. Didn’t they realise that she loved babies and that she would soon have another of her very own?

…………….

Joseph Cartwright looked thoughtfully at the animal in front of him. The animal looked equally as thoughtfully back at him. Neither of them moved although Joseph held the bucket close to his body with both arms around it and the goat was firmly tethered by a good stout rope.

It had been a bit of a shock to wake up and find himself in a very strange room with Hoss snoring by his side. He had remained as stiff as a poker in case Hoss would wake up and tell him that something terrible had happened and that they were no longer going to be living at the Ponderosa. He had hardly dare to breathe until Hoss woke up mid-snort and yawned.

“Hoss, I want Ma.”

“Whaddya say?”

“I want my Ma.”

Hoss sat up and rubbed his eyes. He had a vague memory of climbing out of the window on the landing and being bundled into a rather evil smelling wagon. Had he dreamt it or had he really seen Little Joe tumbling through the air from that same window and falling into the arms of Mr Hogan? He had looked about him and seen what a really nice room they were sleeping in and nudged his brother,

“It’s alright, we’re at Mr Hogans place.”

“But – I want Ma. I wanna go to the out house.”

Hoss nodded. He was the eldest and he was now in charge. He rolled out of the bed and then grabbed his brother’s hand. Together they padded across the room, pushed open the door and found themselves in another room where Mr Hogan was making oatmeal, and stirring bacon in a skillet at the same time.

“Woken up at last?” he said turning to look at them both.

“Joe wants the out house.” Hoss declared stoutly.

“Off you go then, hurry back and then we can eat.”

So they had eaten their oatmeal and some bacon with a fresh egg each, plus a cup of creamy goats milk. Joe was well used to goats milk. Old Hogan delivered it fresh every day just for him for when he was newly born it was discovered that it was the only milk he thrived upon. He grew strong boned as a result and loved it. Hoss had never taken to the milk, it would smell too much of goat for his liking but now, having no other alternative put before him, he drank it down eagerly.

“After we’ve finished we’ll have to go out and do our chores.” Hogan declared, and he looked at them both “Do you want to milk the goats, little feller?” he asked Joe who shook his head, “No? Well, we’ll see. I promised to show you the baby goats, didn’t I?”

Joe nodded and then looked at his brother, for he could not recall any such promise ever being made. Hoss nodded,

“Adam said you had a baby goat for us to see.” he smiled broadly.

“So I have. Now finish your food up and we’ll set off.”

So here they were now, the goat and Joe watching every move the other made, and Hoss playing with the baby goats who had eagerly come up to the little boy and suckled his fingers. Joe looked up as Hogan plucked the bucket from his arms and set it down beneath the goat. Soon he was milking the goat and Joe was watching the milky liquid foaming into the bucket. It was all very interesting and he stepped closer to watch.
Once the bucket was full Hogan got up, patted the goat on the head and walked away with the bucket in his hand. Joe forgot his fears, walked up to the goat and patted it on the head. He then made the mistake of turning to walk back and was swiftly sent falling flat on his face as the goat decided to act first and ask questions later by butting the child on the most obvious place.

“Why you is a bad goat -” Joe cried, picking himself up and moving quickly to get out of range of the beast, “Bad, bad goat.”

In the doorway of the barn Hoss laughed aloud. He was in his heaven at that moment as two kids were clasped firmly in his arms as happily content to be there as he was to have them.

Chapter 28

Adam had been right. The wagons tracks were very easy to follow and it was not long before father and son were riding into the yard of the small homestead. Smoke coiled into the sky from the chimney and chickens ran squawking away from the feet of the horses as they galloped towards the building.

It was a small white painted building with an unpretentious air about it. A window was open to admit fresh air into the kitchen area and from the interior came the thin wail of a baby.

The door was opened by a tall man with a rifle in his hand. Norman waited until he could see more clearly who the riders were, and recognising Ben Cartwright he promptly put the rifle to one side.

“Mr Cartwright, sir – have you come for your wife?” he stepped forward hastily, and brought out his hand which Ben shook heartily although it was obvious he was only wanting one thing and that was indeed to see his wife.

“This way, sir. My wife has been tending to her. She’s been fearful unwell, you know.”

“Where is she?” Ben cried and hurried into the building.

Maggie stood before him, the baby in her arms, and a wide eyed sad expression on her face, as Ben hurried to go past her she caught at his arm,

“Mr Cartwright, just a word please -.”

Ben paused as something in the gentle way Maggie spoke hinted at the importance of what she was about to say, he took off his hat, and inclined his head,

“Your wife has miscarried her child. She’s lost a lot of blood and she’s been very feverish. Possibly the shock of what she has endured hasn’t helped. The thing is – “ Maggie drew in a deep breath, “Well, she can’t recall having lost the baby. She’s talking as though – as though she has it still.”

“Is there no chance that she could be right?”

Maggie shook her head and looked into the stricken face with a sadness she could well understand and with which she had every sympathy,

“I’ve nursed too many in this kind of situation when I was back East.” she explained gently, “Be careful with what you say to her, Mr Cartwright.”

He nodded and thanked her in a soft voice, then he looked at Adam who had followed him into the cabin. Adam merely nodded, acknowledging that he understood that this was as far as he could go at present, it was time for Ben and Marie to be alone. Maggie realised how awkward the boy would be feeling and smiled at him,

“You look just about done in, lad. Come on inside here and sit down. Have you hurt your foot?”

“I twisted my ankle.”

“Well, sit down now, and I’ll get you something good and warm to drink and while you’re drinking it, I shall see to your foot.”

She smiled at him, coaxing a smile back in return. Norman came and sat down on the chair opposite Adam, and the baby was placed in a crib, for she was now sound asleep.

Ben let the curtain drop behind him as he stepped into the room and looked down upon the woman sleeping upon the bed with her long hair braided and falling over one shoulder. He could see in the sleeping face where Joseph got the firm chin and the wide eyes and he leaned down and gently kissed her lips.

“Ben?” she sighed and opened her eyes slowly, then she smiled, “Where did you come from?” she reached out her hand and felt the warmth of his as his fingers curled around her own.

“I was looking for you,” he replied simply and kissed the palm of her hand tenderly, “And I found you.”

“I appear to have been a nuisance to you all. These kind people have looked after me so well.”

“Yes, I believe they have. Can you remember what happened, my dear?”

She creased her brow in thought and then sighed,

“Not well. I had been taken from home by some rather rough men I believe?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“But there was an elderly man there who helped me into the wagon and brought me here. He said I was ill.”

“You were ill.” Ben nodded in confirmation.

“I was?” her face dropped into confusion once more and then she sighed, “Then you must be right. Maggie said the same.”

“We need to get you home so that Hop Sing can take good care of you and feed you up so you get your strength back.” he kissed her fingertips now and looked down at the trusting face that gazed up at him with such love.

“Yes, I do feel very tired. I feel very tired indeed,” she sighed and turned her face away while a frown settled once again upon her brow, “Ben, there was something I wanted to tell you.”

“Yes, my darling, what is it?”

“I was pregnant,” she paused and dwelt a little upon the words in her own mind before within a sigh she added, “I was going to have a baby.”

“You were?” his grip tightened slightly and he took a deep breath. They had always been so honest with one another and he wondered what he would be able to tell her, say to her, in the next few minutes.

“Yes. I was going to tell you soon.” she looked back at him and stared deeply into his face as though she had to see for herself the reaction the news would have upon him, “Ben, I’ve been thinking that this illness -”

“Yes,” he prompted.

“I don’t think there’s a baby anymore.”

“No, my love, no -” he said very softly indeed and then he cradled her closely in his arms and kissed her brow, “But it’s alright, you’ll be alright, I promise, you’ll be alright.”

Chapter 29

For some moments Ben sat by his wife’s side cradling her in his arms. She was too exhausted to speak and he was too cautious to say anything in case he said the wrong thing. When she sighed he would kiss her brow or fingers, and if she whispered any word at all then he told her yet again how much he loved her.

Maggie rebound Adam’s ankle and laughed when he said the only boots that fitted over the bandages had been his Pa’s. So he had been wearing one of his own boots and one of Bens and so far his father had not noticed. She gave him a wedge of bread and cheese to eat with a large mug of hot sweet tea which she was pleased to see him wolf down.

“Did you know your Ma was expecting a baby?” she asked eventually as she rocked back and forth in the rocking chair knitting what appeared to be some socks for her husband.

“No. She hadn’t mentioned it.”

“This is going to be a difficult time for a little while. You may find her a little bit – well – prone to being sad. I’m sure you’ll help her a lot though, won’t you?” she smiled at him as though she couldn’t expect anything but helpfulness from him.

“Yes, of course I shall. My little brothers may not be so helpful though.” he frowned, “No point in saying anything to Joe, of course, he’s only 3 and won’t understand.”

“No, of course he won’t.” she said softly and then looked up as the curtain rose and fell as Ben stepped into that part of the cabin in which they were seated,

“How’s Ma?” Adam asked immediately.

“Very tired.” Ben replied and he looked a little awkward, as though he wasn’t quite sure of what to say or do next. He looked over at Maggie,

“Ma’am, you and your husband have been so generous in your help. Is there anything at all I can do to help you both?”

Maggie smiled, shook her head and concentrated on counting stitches for a while, then she looked up at him,

“Would you like something to drink, Mr Cartwright? I’ve some good coffee brewing. Norman will be in soon from doing his early morning chores.”

“Many thanks.” Ben now turned to Adam, “Have you had anything, Adam?”

“Yes, Pa.”

“Then do you feel able to ride back to the Ponderosa and help Hop Sing to get the room ready for Ma. Tell Hop Sing what has happened so that he’ll know what to do to help. Will you do that, son?” he looked at Adam sadly, as though at the present moment he was defeated by the whole situation.

“Sure, Pa, I’ll go right now.”

“Good lad,” Ben reached out and tapped his son playfully under the chin with his fist and smiled but his eyes were still sad and Adam knew too well the man and the love he had for Marie to say or do anything other than to ask his father to give Marie his love.

“He’s a good boy,” Maggie said quietly as she handed Ben the coffee while he lowered himself into the chair that Adam had just vacated.

“Yes, he is. I’m well blessed.” he took a long gulp at the coffee and sighed with pleasure, before settling against the chair back. “Marie is not Adam’s mother, by the way.”

“I had heard. People talk.” she looked up and smiled at him again before returning to her knitting.

…………

Eli Prowse had set off at a good pace after leaving the camp site. Now he had paused at the river’s edge and dismounted to sit awhile and refresh himself from the canteen and to think.

This was the first time in his life that he had been entirely alone. Without family, without brother or uncle to think about and plan around. One part of his brain told him he was now free from all encumbrances, while another part asked how did it happen, how did it all fall so easily apart?

Perhaps it was Donald’s death that had been the catalyst, that had caused the seed of discontent to grow into defiance. He had seen the look on their faces, the doubt and resentment in their eyes for some weeks now ever since he had set himself on this private war of vengeance. One of them had once said that the matter only involved him so he should be the one to settle it, not drag the whole family into it. He tried to recall which of them had said that, but it was past now, the memory had eluded him.

Now there was no Jude riding by his side. Compliant and non invasive, his brother, and he had, in his own way, loved his brother. It was when Jude had said he was going to go back with the others and didn’t want to pursue this mad course on which Eli had set them all, that was when Eli had pulled out his knife and plunged it into his brother’s chest. Jude of all people to say anything concerning Elizabeth was mad, he who had known her and been fond of her, fond enough to jest that if Eli didn’t marry her then he would instead.

Oh Jude had been happy about the gold, they had all been more than pleased about carrying away the gold. But the whole point of the mission had gone awry and now here he was … alone.

From his pocket he brought out a small silver box the size of a snuff box. He opened it and gazed at its contents, a black curl of hair and a thin silk blue ribbon. He was the only person on earth who knew it had belonged to Elizabeth Stoddard. He was the only person on earth who even cared. He closed the lid and replaced the little box and gazed out across the river to tread the path of nostalgia.

He heard her voice now, laughing happily as her father escorted her on board the ship. He saw the dark eyes with the long lashes upturned to him and the lips smiling at him. She was kind, generous, sweet natured. She was everything he wanted her to be and he adored her. He could remember the way he had felt when he stepped off the ship on the harbour front and saw old Abel Stoddard for the first time in many years. An omen of good things he had thought for Abel had been the first person he had set eyes on.

Then his steps led him to the graveside with her name carved upon a heart shaped stone with stone roses carved around it. Eli sighed now and shook himself out of his reverie. He had made his mistakes and one of them had been taking Ben Cartwright’s wife instead of accomplishing what he had set out to do. Taking Marie had set Jack against him and the others had followed in Jack’s path, sheep all of them. He stood up, smoothed his long coat and adjusted his hat. With long strides he made his way to his horse and within seconds was back in the saddle.

…………….

Adam Cartwright rode at a good gallop towards the Ponderosa. He was an excellent rider, totally at one with the animal he rode. He thought of Marie and his father as he rode towards home, still too young to understand the full implications of what had actually happened, perhaps glad that there was not another year of disturbed days and nights with a baby in the house and the upheaval such a tiny thing could create in a busy family such as theirs, but at the same time saddened because he knew Marie would be distressed and it would take it’s toll on Ben who loved her so much.

He rounded the corner and crossed the bridge at Miller’s Creek. He and Ben had built the bridge only the previous winter and he always felt a twinge of pleasure at galloping over the sturdy planks. The horse’s hoofs thudded almost melodically across them.

…………….

From where he sat in the saddle Eli Prowse watched as the young rider crossed the bridge. He could hear the sound of the horse galloping over the planks. It made him think of a heart beat. He drew out his rifle and aimed very carefully making sure that he had the youth well in his sights, and then he pulled the trigger.

Chapter 30

The first crack from the rifle and the bullet whistled past Adam’s head, humming rather like an angry bee. He lowered his head so that his cheek brushed against the rough mane of his horse whom he urged to move even faster although the thought that he could out distance a bullet may well prove futile. He lacked a gun, and to withdraw the rifle would have been more time consuming and clumsy in his endeavours to escape winged death.

Eli aimed again and fired once more. His eyes did not change in expression although a satisfied smile graced his lips as the horse stumbled and fell sending its rider somersaulting over its head to land flat on his back on the dirt track. He knew that the boy would be winded and unlikely to regain his feet for a moment or two. Enough time to wend his way down to him and finish off the job.

Adam closed his eyes as he was thrown from the horse. His stomach went ahead of him and they somehow caught up with each other just before he landed. The breath was indeed knocked painfully out of him and he was momentarily stunned. He heard the sound of approaching hoof beats and attempted to move but found himself incapable to doing so. The most he could do was raise himself upon his elbow and wait.

Eli brought his horse to a halt and looked down upon the boy who was now defenceless before him. He approached at a walk, the rifle aimed at Adam’s chest. He said nothing but just looked deeply into the young face with the dark eyes and for a moment he was reminded of a time when he was standing outside Abel Stoddard’s home with Elizabeth by his side. She was then fifteen years old, a mere child, and looked up at him, already a man of the world and a hardened sailor, with the innocence of youth.

“One day you’ll be a beautiful young woman, Miss Elizabeth,” he recalled saying to her, and hoping that his breath didn’t smell and she wouldn’t notice how worn his clothes were.

“Do you think so, Mr Prowse? That’s very kind of you to say so.”

“Wouldn’t you want to grow into a beautiful lady, Miss? You’d have suitors from far and wide coming to court you, you know?”

“Oh I don’t think so, Mr Prowse. I don’t even think I would want to have suitors coming from all over.”

“Not even just one or two?” he had smiled down at her for he was tall and at this age of her life she was such a petite little person.

She had laughed then, the happy trusting laugh of a young girl totally naïve to the way the world reacted to beauty.

“Remember me, will you, Miss?”

“Of course I shall, Mr Prowse.” and the dark eyes had looked up at him a little troubled, a little uncertain just as …

… just as the dark eyes of this boy looked up at him now.

…………..

Joseph Cartwright laughed aloud. He was quite happy chasing the chickens just like he was allowed to do at home if Hop Sing was not around to see him doing it. Hoss was diligently searching for eggs and every so often the triumphant cry of “I’ve found one” echoed over Mr Hogan’s yard.

Mr Hogan sat in his rocking chair on the verandah and puffed away on his pipe with his eyes on the two children. He wondered when it was he was supposed to return the two of them not that he was in that great a hurry but Joe was rather fretful at times, asking for his Ma or his Pa or for his brother Addy. It took him, Hogan, a while each time to think of something to distract the child’s mind and amuse him again. Hogan had to admit that he was not an expert at child care.

“I found eight eggs already, Mr Hogan.” Hoss declared triumphantly as he held up the pail containing the eggs for the elderly man to see.

“Then we’ll cook them for our supper.” Hogan said and ruffled the boys hair in the way he recalled his own father had down when he was a child.

“I wanna go home now.” Joseph yelled from the rear of the garden with his bottom lip protruding in a fearsome pout.

“You’ll go home soon, young lad, come and see what I’ve got here for you.” Hogan held up a colourful book which drew the child towards him but warily.

“He usually has a sleep about now,” Hoss whispered to Mr Hogan, “Ma puts him to bed and tells him a little story and then he sleeps for at least an hour.”

“Does he indeed?” Hogan turned a rheumy red rimmed eye to the little tyrant and smiled, “I think that’s a real good idea. Do you have a sleep too?”

“No, I’m much too old.” Hoss protested. “I have some milk, or lemonade, and cookies.” he frowned, “Then I read to Ma from my primer and do some writing.”

“Oh writing huh?” Hogan nodded, “Well, let’s go inside and see what we can do.”
He got to his feet and wondered what creaked the most, the rocking chair or his back, and made his way into the cool interior of his home.

“I ain’t gonna go to sleep,” Little Joe protested, “I want milk and cookies with Hoss.”

Hogan said nothing to that command but he turned, picked the child up and placed him upon the high backed chair, pulled over a cloth to wipe the child’s feet – for Joe had run around in bare feet all day due to Adam not having time to throw boots down for him. He then resolutely carried the child into the area in which they had slept during the night and placed him in the bed. Joe was amazed at the way he had been manhandled. No petting and fussing like Mama would have done, no chatter and smiles like Hop Sing either – he swallowed any protest he was about to utter and decided that he didn’t like Mr Hogan any more, nor his smelly goat – one in particular – and going to sleep would probably be the best and quickest way to deal with the whole matter. He just knew when he woke up Pa or Ma would be there. He turned his back on Mr Hogan defiantly, closed his eyes and amazingly was asleep within minutes.

Hogan scratched his head and shook it in bemusement. Perhaps he was better at dealing with children than he thought. Hoss looked at him wide eyed in admiration so the same thought must have crossed his mind too.

……………

“Once Marie wakes up I’d like to take her home,” Ben said quietly to the couple who sat opposite him, “Could you loan me your wagon, Mr Hawkins, and a blanket with which to wrap her in?”

“Certainly you can, I’ll put some fresh straw down to make it warm and comfortable for her,” Norman replied, “If there’s anything else you would like, you have only to ask.”

“I can’t ask more, you have been, both of you, very kind.” Ben sighed, “Living out here, well, it’s a precarious business really, isn’t it?”

“Indeed it is,” Norman agreed, “No doctor as yet, no school or church. Sometimes not even the basic things we need and it’s a long way to travel to find nothing available to eat. We’ve had the occasional brush with the Paiute too. I’ve learned to leave a haunch or two of any deer I kill for them when hunting, it seems to have pacified them a little.”

“Yes,” Ben nodded, “They aren’t always the most friendly of neighbours. But it’s the lack of a good doctor that worries me most, especially when things like what has happened to Marie takes place.”

“I was a nurse in a hospital back East for some years, Mr Cartwright, you can always call on me if you need any medical advice.” Maggie said softly as she began to ‘turn’ the sock, adding the third needle to produce the heel.

“It’s good to have neighbours like yourself so close at hand,” Ben smiled, “Have you met Mr Hogan yet?”

“Indeed we have. When Iris was born a few weeks ago he came asking if we would like goats milk for her. He said that your Joseph had been receiving it since he was a few weeks old. Of course we said yes and he has delivered us enough for her needs every morning since.”

Ben nodded with a smile. It was then that he remembered the fact that before going home he would have to turn off to Hogan’s place in order to collect his two little boys. The thought of doing so gave him a sudden overwhelming feeling of peace and security, so much so that he leaned back into the chair, stretched out his legs and relaxed for the first time since Eli Prowse had burst into his house.

Chapter 31

Eli dismounted and with the rifle still aimed at Adam’s chest walked towards the boy who continued to look into the man’s face while remaining flat on his back on the track. Several feet away from Adam and Eli gestured to the boy to stand up,

“I can’t, I’ve hurt my back.” Adam replied.

Eli said nothing to that but stepped closer and extended his hand to grasp hold of Adam’s shirt front and physically hoist him up onto his feet. The youth gasped with pain, but succeeded in standing on his own two feet although very gingerly.

“Can you walk?” Eli asked in a civil tone of voice, one which prompted Adam to nod slowly and attempt to limp alongside this strange being who was about to lead him from the track .

“Wait,” Adam cried, “I have to see to my horse.”

“Don’t bother to waste your time. I don’t waste ammunition.” Eli replied with the cold sneer in his voice that was his usual tone and which indicated that his patience would extend only so far.

After casting an anxious glance over to his horse, which, as Eli indicated, was quite dead, Adam trailed behind his captor. He limped slowly along, grateful for the care Maggie had given to the injury and watching Eli’s every move. The rifle was cradled in the man’s arms but Adam knew full well that the man would have no hesitation in using it, and swiftly, when the time arose.

They walked some distance from the track to where the ground sloped down into long grasses and high boulders. It was here that Eli indicated that Adam could sit, which the youth did, very gratefully. His back was far more painful than he had realised and were there to be any positives derived from pain then the only one he could think of was that it stopped him thinking about his ankle.

Eli sat on a boulder opposite him and surveyed Adam with that deep cold penetrating stare that could be so unnerving.

“You’re not scared of me at all, are you?” he said after some moments had elapsed.

“No.” came the short response and Adam gave a half shrug to the extent his back permitted him.

“I could kill you at any moment, any second, that I choose you realise that, don‘t you?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re not frightened, or nervous about that?”

Adam gave another half shrug, and looked at the rifle and then into Eli’s face,

“Mr Prowse, I’ve lived all my life having to face danger. Since I was an infant in arms I have been confronted with situations that could have been the death of me. My Pa taught me to stand up to each and every one and not to back down. I would rather die bravely than as a coward, cringing in fear, as some do.”

A brief ghost of a smile touched Eli’s lips, and he nodded slowly,

“I could almost hear your grandfather speaking then,” he said quietly, “which doesn’t displease me. I sailed with your father under Captain Stoddard’s command, did you know that?”

“I recall you mentioned it,” Adam replied cautiously, “With your brother -?”

“Yes. Jude was with me. I met your mother during that time. She was very lovely.”

“My father tells me so. He has some pictures of her which he has shown me, and a musical box.”

Eli took a sharp intake of breath and his eyes widened, then he bowed his head,

“A musical box. Yes, I remember the day he bought the musical box. He had cherubs and roses on it?”

“Yes.”

“I asked him for whom he was buying it. He said it was for someone he cared about very much. Had I realised it was for her -” he scowled and a dark cloud seemed to drop across his face. “Perhaps things would have been different.”

He looked once again at Adam and frowned slightly,

“I wish you had known your mother, Adam Cartwright. I knew my own for a short time and have few memories of her, but -” he looked down at the ground as though suddenly caught away in deep thought, then he put his hand to his inside pocket and withdrew the silver box which he held out to Adam, “Here, open it.” he commanded it and Adam took it from the man and cautiously opened it, “That was hers … a lock of her hair and the ribbon. She came on board one day with her father and I was able to get it then, and the ribbon was on her gown. That was the day I realised what a lovely young woman she had become.”

“But, Mr Prowse -” Adam paused, he looked into the man’s face and realised now was not the time to mention the fact that there was no possible twist of fate that would have induced his mother to have loved a man such as Eli Prowse. The man’s hand was outstretched still so he closed the little box and handed it over to him.

Eli replaced the box and then produced a piece of cardboard. It was worn from rough handling and the painted picture upon it was faded. This he also passed over to Adam who took it with some trepidation.

“I had a good friend who painted it for me.” Eli said in such a warm tone of voice that Adam could have imagined him to have been a normal rational human being. “have you seen her grave?”

Adam glanced up sharply, his eyes having devoured the painting Eli’s words had been a harsh reminder of what he didn ‘t wish to dwell upon, but Eli’s voice was slurred now, as though he were slightly drunk,

“It was the man who painted that portrait of her that carved the gravestone. I always thought of roses when I thought of Elizabeth.” and once again he held out his hand for the return of his treasure.

Adam cast another swift glance down at the pretty face that looked up at him and passed it back so that Eli could look at it once more and then return it to his pocket.

“I suppose you think me mad?” he said, the rifle leaning against the boulder while he clasped both hands between his knees in the manner of a man praying.

“I don’t know what to think, Mr Prowse.” Adam replied honestly, “I’ve seen many who have gone mad from grief, that’s true.”

“Death is not a natural thing, boy. If there were a God in heaven who they claim to be all love, then He would not torture those of us on earth by taking from us the ones we most love. Don’t you think so?”

Adam frowned and once again gave a half shrug and shook his head,

“I don’t know much about such things, Sir, except to see that many suffer such losses, not just ourselves.”

Eli thought about that comment for a moment before replying,

“Your father remarried not long after Elizabeth’s death. What was she like?”

“It as some years after my mother’s death, in fact, Sir. I was near on five years old when Pa married Inger. She was very different from my mother being very fair and blue eyed and strong.”

“Yes – she would be very different. Elizabeth was always fragile.” Eli heaved a sigh, “And how did this woman die?”

Adam licked his lips and remembered only too well the day of Inger’s death; he sighed in his turn

“Not many weeks after my brother was born Inger was killed in an Indian attack. She was buried on the Missouri plains in an unmarked grave.”

Eli nodded thoughtfully and stared out into space as though his own mind could picture it all very clearly.

“My mother and father were both killed by Indians. I saw them tortured, murdered before my eyes.”

“I saw Inger die. I held Hoss in my arms, it was because she heard him cry that Inger turned and the arrow killed her.” Adam pouted, he was not a man yet, but he was also no longer a child. The pain he felt when remembering that moment he could no longer indulge with tears but the pain was still there.

Neither of them spoke for a while then Eli reached for the rifle and stood up.

‘This is it,’ Adam thought to himself, ’This is the moment when I die. So be it. Perhaps I should fight him to stay alive and I would but for the pain in my back. It would be for nothing though – ’ such were his thoughts as he rose to his feet to face the man who held his life in his hands.

“Good bye, Adam Cartwright,” Eli said quietly and extended his hand which Adam took in his and shook. It was a firm handgrip, that of a strong man. Adam held his breath and waited…

Chapter 32

Hop Sing opened the door and stepped back in amazement at the sight of his mistress being carried into the house in her husband’s arms. Hoss and Joseph ran into the house in grubby mud stained night shirts, one in his boots and the other bare footed. Hop Sing watched the all disperse around the room, Ben to lower Marie gently onto the settee, and the boys to run to where they could recall leaving their favourite toy.

“Any doughnuts, HopSing?” Hoss cried as he gleefully pulled the wagon and horses from their hideaway under the table.

“I want some lemonade,” Joseph demanded, “Please, Hop Sing.” and he yanked out his hobby horse from beside the grandfather clock.

“Hop Sing, Marie needs some of your beef broth. Have you made some? Did Adam explain what has happened?” Ben asked, looking anxiously at the cook with his dark eyes wide in appeal within an anxious face.

“Hop Sing, how nice the room looks now . You have worked so hard, dear friend.” Marie’s gentle voice, somewhat weaker than usual, seemed to float above the other requests and it was to this that Hop Sing responded, bowing politely and with a wide smile on his face.

“Hop Sing, I asked you – did Adam explain to you what has happened?” Ben once again demanded.

“Not seen Mr Adam.” Hop Sing replied. “No sign of boy. I go get tea for Missy. Doughnut and lemonade for boy. Also put water on for bath. Boys not clean.”

“Owww, no.” Hoss groaned and pouted.

“I don‘t want no bath.” Joe protested and mounted his hobby horse to ’gallop’ as far away as he could from the very prospect of a bath becoming a reality.

“But Adam should have been here hours ago.” Ben cried, “Where’s the boy got to now?”

Marie put out a hand and touched her husbands arm,

“Ben,, you don’t think that mad man – Prowse – you don’t think he would have hurt Adam?”

“I would have thought he’d have been a long way from here by now, my dear.”

“But what if he wasn’t? What if he had decided to come back here?” Marie’s voice quavered slightly and she looked anxiously at Hop Sing, “Has there been anyone here at all, Hop Sing? Any strangers?”

“No stranger come. No one.” Hop Sing shook his head, then his brow furrowed slightly, “Hear hoss one time only. But see no one.”

“Ben – that man could be here, in the house,” Marie cried, “Or in the barn.”

“It could have been Adam. He was really tired, perhaps he came home and went straight to his room. Hop Sing, take care of your mistress, while I check upstairs.”

Marie called for the boys to come to her, while Hop Sing clucked about like the proverbial mother hen collecting up her chicks. As Ben mounted the stairs he was aware of four upturned faces and four pairs of eyes watching him.

Upon the landing he drew out his gun and cautiously entered into each room. There was Hoss’ room with the bed all upside down from when coaxed him from it, but it was empty. Inside Josephs’ room and once more there was nothing to be found untoward about it, the bed was crumpled and a blanket missing but nothing other than that to note. He pushed open the door to the main bedroom and apart from the open drawer from which Adam had taken the gun there was no evidence of any intruder. True the rifle was also gone but Ben had found that upon the landing where it had been taken from Adam’s hands and left.

He pushed open the door to Adam’s room and until then asking himself why he was taking so many precautions. He knew had it not been for Hop Sing who had ears like a hawks he would not have been to cautious. It was as he stepped into Adam’s room however that he realised why it had been so necessary for there was indeed the presence of some lurking evil within it.

Perhaps it is possible that the personality of a person can be so strong as to leave some vibrations in the air that are left long after the person has left it, or perhaps Bens own subconscious noticed something different in the room that was not obvious to his normal vision and thereby warned him that someone had indeed been there. He looked carefully at the room, the bed and the furniture but everything was tidy and neat. The bed was uncrumpled for unlike his brothers Adam had not slept in it. His books lined the shelves in perfect order. On the table beside the bed –

Ben did a double check for there was the thing that indicated that someone had been there, or rather there was the thing that was missing to indicate such. The picture of Elizabeth in its silver frame was there but the musical box with the cherubs and roses was gone.
He slipped the gun into the holster and approached the table thoughtfully. He glanced about him to see if there was any indication of Eli Prowse elsewhere in the room, but everything appeared to be in perfect order. The bedroom window was open and the curtain drifted across the floor. There was no doubt about it, someone had entered the room through the window for there were the boot marks upon the cill to prove it.

Ben turned his gaze once again to the table and saw in his minds eye the musical box once again. He swallowed the lump in his throat and remembered how Elizabeth had died listening to the music and how her hand had closed the lid down upon her death. It was not a memory he dwelt upon often.

“Was there anyone? Adam?” Marie asked, her face pale and anxious and she relaxed back against the settee when he smiled and shook his head,

“I am going to back track and see if I can find him now. Going to Hogans meant we didn’t take the direct route home. He may be hurt or – or something. I’ll be back very soon.” he kissed her brow and looked at Hop Sing, “Look after your mistress, Hop Sing.”

“Can I come with you, Pa?” Hoss asked, standing in the middle of the room in his soiled nightshirt with his muddy boots on his feet and the wagon and horses in his hands.

Ben smiled and shook his head. His last view of Joseph was of the child clambering up into his mother’s lap and throwing his arms about her neck, no doubt in an attempt to persuade her to prevent the dreaded bath.

He remounted his horse, turned him around and galloped swiftly from the yard. As he rode along the track his mind was full of remorse and guilt as he thought of the way he had so arbitrarily requested that Adam ride home, alone, despite the fact that Eli and Jude had not been among the men they had taken captive earlier in the day. He could not forgive himself for being so careless, so thoughtless. But his mind was solely on Marie, on her needs and the fact that a child of his had been lost forever. It had been a much harder blow to him that Marie would ever realise for although no man could claim the fleshly bond between mother and embryo there was, to Ben at least, an immediate emotional bond between himself and the concept that there would soon be another child to love.

It didn’t however diminish his responsibilities to the sons that were living and he knew within his heart that he had been utterly neglectful of his eldest son. Marie had often chided him for the fact that he treated the boy, had always seemed to treat the boy, like a man and had expected him to react to situations like a man. Now he wondered whether she was indeed very, very right in her summation.

Adam lay where he had fallen. A crumpled heap of long gangly legs and his arms seeming to cradle his head. “Adam!” the cry, the name, the sob, all intermingled into one as Ben saw his son and drew Buck to a standstill in a welter of dust. “Adam!” did he scream the name? It sounded in his own ears very much as though he had done so.

The shirt tail drifted in the breeze, lifted up and down, and the dark hair was stirred into curls but there was no other movement. If he were breathing then it was so shallow that Ben could see no evidence of it. He felt as though his own breath would choke him as he ran towards the body of his first born.

“Adam?” he knelt down and pulled the body into his arms, cradled him close, held him tight and bowed his head so that the near black curls were mingled with his iron grey hair and brushed against his cheek. “Adam? Come, son, you can’t leave me now.”

Chapter 32

Hop Sing threw open the door as soon as he saw the horse enter the yard. Adam was in the saddle in front of Ben with his head reclining upon his father’s chest and Ben’s arms supporting him while holding the reins and allowing the beast to make his way home. Very carefully Hop Sing took the weight of the boy’s body in his arms, not daring to look into the face of the man who had brought him home just in case he would see the worse imaginable news.

Once Ben had dismounted he took his son in his arms and gently carried him into the ranch house. Marie, still resting on the settee, promptly got to her feet as the sight of her husband and the state of the youth. Without pausing Ben hurried across the room and up the stairs so that he could lay his son down upon his bed.

“What happened? Is he – Ben – is he …?” she couldn’t say the word but wrung her hands and then clung to his arm for support as her legs began to weaken.

“Missy, you come rest now.” Hop Sing took her other arm and looked at Ben for support in his attempts to remove her from this sad scene, but Marie shook her head and looked appealingly at the boy on the bed.

The heavy eye lids fluttered open and Adam looked at nothing in particular before his eyes closed once again. He sighed, and turned his face towards the window like some sunflower seeking the sun. Ben covered Marie’s hand with his own, and held her close to him,

“Hop Sings right, my dear, you need to rest. Come along now, I’ll take you to our room where you can sleep awhile.”

“Sleep? How can I sleep? Where did you find him?”

“Come along now -” Ben said softly, and he put his arm around her shoulders and led her slowly from the room, “Hop Sing, see to my son. He’s been through more than he should have done today.”

Hop Sing did not need to be told twice but rushed to the bed in order to carry out his own examination of the youth who barely breathed.

“What has happened, Ben? Was it Eli Prowse or Jude?”

She looked into his face as he said nothing but lifted her off her feet and settled her down on the bed. Hop Sing had already turned back the covers so Ben pulled them over her and tucked them in. He brushed away a curl from her face, and took hold of her hand in his while he sat in the chair beside her.

“I found him sprawled on the road to all intents and purposes quite dead. I felt so frightened that Eli Prowse had killed him, Marie, that for a moment I could hardly breathe. When I took him – when I held him and felt his breath against my cheek I could have wept.”

“What happened? Has he been able to tell you at all?”

“He opened his eyes and said “Oh Pa, I’m sorry, I didn’t get home in time -” and then closed his eyes again.” Ben paused and just held her hands tightly in his own while he looked beyond her and out of the window, then he bowed his head, “Oh Marie, I was so stupid. I never took into account all that he had already done or that he was hurt, and just sent him back home without thinking that Eli could be hanging around just waiting for the chance to do us more harm. I was thinking -” he paused, would it be right to say how his thoughts had been so much upon her and the lost baby that he had not bothered to consider the dangers he was asking his son to ride into?

“I know -” she stroked his cheek, “It was an awkward time for you, darling. You must have been so worried about me that you didn’t realise that Adam needed you too.”

“Oh if only it were that simple.” Ben groaned, “He was hurt and came back to warn us, got the boys out to safety… what kind of father am I?”

“You’re a wonderful father, Ben. There’s no need to punish yourself for all of this. He’ll be alright now. We all shall be. Hop Sing will be pouring beef jelly and soups down our throats until we could swim in it.” she forced a laugh and looked longingly into his face, “I’m the person who should be apologising to you, darling. I should have told you about the baby but -” she sighed, “I wanted to wait until the 30th of this month, you see.”

He didn’t of course. He just nodded and kissed her fingertips and looked vacant like most husbands who have just been given a subtle reminder that a wedding anniversary hovered on the horizon. She looked at his face and smiled, what a wonderful man he was, how she loved him.

“Ben, did Adam say anything else at all?”

“I got him onto the horse and on the journey home he told me that he had met Eli. The man shot Adam’s horse from under him and then when he was about to shoot Adam, changed his mind. He talked about Elizabeth -”

“He was obsessed with her wasn’t he?”

“Yes. I can remember even during the time we were ship mates how much he would talk about her. I had forgotten just how much.” Ben paused, sighed and looked at her again with a vague kind of smile on his face, “Thwarted love in a man like Eli -” he shrugged and shook his head.

“Go and see if Adam’s alright, dear. I think I’ll get some sleep now.” she whispered softly.

She watched him as he walked from the room and she saw the man she loved bowed down by the weight of the anxieties of the past few days. She closed her eyes and overwhelmed by emotion and exhaustion broke into silent tears.

………………

Hoss and Joe came to stand beside their brother’s bed and looked down upon him as he slept between clean sheets. Hop Sing had lavished gentle care and attention upon him and ensured that he was as clean as the clean within which he slept. Hoss held his brother’s hand and sighed, he was unable to speak so overwhelmed was he to see his brother so still and quiet.

Joseph however climbed up onto the bed and decided he had to slip in to the bed between those clean crisp sheets and rest his curly head upon the pillow next to his brothers so that he would see when his brother’s eyes opened. He protested loudly when Ben said he could not do any such thing but could give his brother a kiss before he tucked himself into his own bed. Of course Joseph being Joseph it ended up with him being hauled away under Ben’s arm and told several times over that his bed was where he would sleep the night and ’no more nonsense from you, my lad’.

Peace restored. Ben pulled out a chair and sat by his son’s side. When Adam opened his eyes he saw first his father’s anxious face and just over Ben’s shoulder was Elizabeth’s pretty face in the silver frame.

“How are you, my boy?” Ben asked very quietly as though to speak too loudly would disturb the boy somehow.

“I hurt my back when I came off the horse,” Adam sighed, “and I do feel very tired.”

“Adam, I don’t know what to say except I am so sorry to have put you in so much danger. Had I thought more deeply about what was going on I should have realised that Eli was still in the area and would – could – have harmed you had it been possible.”

“He could have killed me, but he didn’t.” Adam sighed heavily, and half closed his eyes, “It’s strange that he should have spared me when he had killed his own brother only hours earlier. People are so strange, Pa”

Ben nodded, turned and took down the picture of Elizabeth, looked intently at it and thought of Eli,

“He had loved her for a very long time, with great devotion. I think he felt I had betrayed her love by marrying Inger.”

“He seemed sad when I told him about Inger’s death. He saw his own mother and father killed by Indians, Pa.” how hard it was to keep his eyes open, his whole body felt heavy and lethargic, and it was with great effort that he was able to put out his hand and touch that of his fathers, “I’m sorry about Ma and the baby, Pa. Are you very unhappy about it?”

Ben frowned, but could say nothing, he could only cup his own hand over that of his sons and think that but for him perhaps he would be mourning the death of two little boys for he didn’t believe that Eli would have shown them any mercy. He was about to speak when he realised that his son had fallen asleep. Only the gentle rise and fall of the sheets covering him gave evidence that he lived for he lay so still.

The night trickled away, darkness flowed into the purple pinks of a dawn, and the sun peeked through the windows to shed golden light upon the sleeping man in the chair beside the bed. In his hand was a book of poetry, by his side a portrait of a pretty young girl, and in the bed slept his first born son. All was well. A new day had begun …

Four years later.

One of the unexpected pleasures along with attending college in Boston was the occasional opportunities that came along for Adam to visit his grand father, Abel Stoddard. Age had been kind to the old man who was still fit and strong enough to continue working in the Chandler’s shop that he and Ben had commenced prior to Adam’s birth.

During his visits Adam would often walk along the harbour with his grandfather and sit with him to listen to the stories the old man would weave about this ship or that ship. Oftentimes these were the very ships he had sailed in himself and he would regale Adam with the tales of the adventures he and his ships crew would have entered.

The smell of the salt in the air, the sight of the sun setting on the sea, and the expanse of the sky itself all held a magic of its very own for the young man. While his grandfather worked through the day at the store Adam would spend his time studying, writing letters or wandering about the township that had been his mother’s home. He met people who would tell him about the little girl they had know, who would sketch in the hazy picture of a happy little family, of a woman he did not know who would have been his grandmother. All these things Adam treasured in his heart and would write down in his letters home.

How life had changed for them all. Dear Marie had died and left a heart broken husband and family behind her. There had never been another child to grace their home and she had died as Joe was approaching his fifth year. It all seemed rather like a miracle when the opportunity arose for Adam to attend college for three years but it was a chance that Ben insisted he took up and with some misgivings Adam did so.

Now here he was on his fifth visit to his grand fathers home. He slept in the room in which he had been born and soaked in the air of a shipping community. :Life here was different. It was different from college life and so different from life on the Ponderosa. He filled his letters to his family with the details he gleaned during his visits to Abel’s home.

“Grandfather, you’re very quiet this evening.” Adam leaned towards the old man, hoping to catch his eye, “Is everything alright? Have you not had a good day?”

To this question Abel fidgeted a little before returning to eating his meal. He had a good house keeper who kept the house clean and made excellent meals. The visits of his grand son were the greatest joy of his heart. But there was definitely an air of despondency hanging over him this particular evening. Finally he pushed the plate away and sat back to observe his grandson who was looking anxiously at him,

“You told me once about something that had happened to the family concerning a man called Eli Prowse, do you remember?”

“Yes, but that was a while ago now.” Adam said quietly and he set down his fork by his plate and looked thoughtfully at Abel, “Why? What’s happened?”

“You told me that nothing was ever heard about him again, isn’t that right?”

Adam nodded but felt the tension creeping from Abel to chill his own bones.

“We never heard anything more about him. Pa and some of the men went searching for him, and they found Jude’s body. They buried him next to his cousins, Donald Stanley and Pete Matthews. If I recall rightly they searched for three days but there was nothing of him to be seen. Pa even sent runners into the nearby settlements requesting information about him.”

“Aye, that was the way of the man. Always was. Created his mischief and then vanished like a ghost. He and his brother were good sailors both, but the trouble Eli caused -” Abel shook his head and narrowed his eyes as he gazed back into the past, “There were many a time I would have rid the ships company of those two, but they excelled at their work and I couldn’t spare them. When your father came along it was like an answer to a prayer, in more ways than one.”

“Eli was obsessed with my mother.” Adam toyed with the cutlery on the table as he thought back to the last words he had exchanged with the man, “He went to the Ponderosa and stole Mother’s musical box from my room.”

“No doubt he would have done,” Abel sighed again, and looked at the young man opposite him for Adam was no longer the changeling child of the time we last met him, he was now nineteen years of age but with a confidence in himself that only a young man who had experienced the life he had led could ever have possessed.

“Well, maybe it is because I am old, or my eyes are playing tricks, but I was sure I saw Eli Prowse today. In fact, it seemed to me that everywhere I looked I saw him. He was in the store awhile before I realised who the man reminded me of, and then as I walked home I glanced over my shoulder and there he was again. I thought my mind was playing tricks with me but before I entered the house I looked back once again and he was there, standing only a few yards away. I watched from the window for a while and he disappeared, or seemed to, but then when you returned home as I closed the door on you, I saw him there once more.”

“Would you feel better if I went to see if he were still there, Grandfather?” Adam asked in a gentle tone of voice and half out of his chair as he spoke but Abel raised his hand and shook his head,

“The very thought of him being here has already ruined my meal. It would be a shame for your meal to be spoilt also. Mrs Grimshaw would be most upset if you didn’t clear your plate.”

Adam gave a half smile and picked up his fork but now he could only play around with the food for his appetite was gone. The thought of Prowse being so close to them again was like knowing there was a snake lurking in the shadows ready to strike. The memory of those unhappy days when Eli had first made his presence felt came to mind and he saw once again the sad pale features of his step-mother and heard her weeping for her lost child. He sighed and pushed the plate away,

“I’d rather risk Mrs Grimshaw’s displeasure than wonder if the wretched man were out there” he said after a while, and he excused himself from the table and went to the door of the house which he opened wide.

It was dark outside for the season was winter. Snow had fallen during the hours since his return from his stroll around town and the white shroud upon the ground was unspoiled as far as the eye could see. The moon shone down bathing the town in bright silver creating a magic all of its very own. Everywhere was silent. As he stood there the town hall clock tolled the hour and it boomed out each stroke over a township that could have been totally devoid of the living.

He closed the door and upon returning to the table apologised to his grandfather for the cold air that had intruded upon their cosy warm room. He sat down again at the table,

“Grandfather, there was no one there. It’s been snowing and as far as I could see there was no sign of Eli Prowse.”

Abel said nothing but nodded, stroked his beard and then rose to his feet. He prodded the fire before throwing on another log or two, and then fumbled about for his pipe and tobacco. Mrs Grimshaw entered the room with a tray laden with coffee, cheese and biscuits. This she set down on the table beside the old mans chair.

“Eli Prowse is like the devil himself. He comes and goes when and as he pleases and always when you least expect it.”

Adam felt a shiver trickle down his back.. Perhaps he was imagining it, but his Grandfather’s words made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

Chapter 34

The pleasant mood the old man and his grandson had shared seemed suddenly to have shifted. The sombre melancholy with which Abel had contended all his life now descended once again upon him and he seemed only to want to sit by the fire puffing at his pipe, drinking whiskey and staring into the flames. It seemed to Adam that there was little point in remaining in the room with him so he bade his grandfather goodnight, took a lamp and made his way upstairs to the bedroom.

How strange that the mention of a man’s name could bring about such a change in the enjoyment they had shared between one another. Adam walked to the window and looked out but in the darkness only his reflection stared back at him. He could see that the snow was falling once again and he opened the window to breathe in the fresh sharpness of the winter evening.

His eyes scanned the scene before him. Snow falling upon the ships and boats in the harbour and whirling around the few lamps that existed along the harbour front. He thought of the lamp lighter who each evening would wend his way through the township to light the lamps and for a moment the shape standing beside the one opposite the house could have been mistaken for him. Adam smiled slowly but without mirth as he thought of the life of a lamp lighter and commiserated with him for the work he had to do. His eyes flicked back to the tall shape however for it seemed to him that there was something familiar about it after all … so he looked again and narrowed his eyes in order to see more clearly whether or not it was just his imagination or the one person he did not wish to see, ever again.

Now the shape moved as though he realised he had been noticed. His face was upturned to the window and Adam stepped back for there was no possibility of error now. There was only one man he knew who bore a scar such as that one. He turned and ran out of the room, his long legs bounded down the stairs and he flung open the door to dash wildly out into the whirling snow.

The dark shadow was walking away. He walked at such a pace that Adam knew if he were not to run after him then he would lose him. Still the snow fell and Adam began to run. The man ahead quickened his pace moving faster and faster into the huddle of houses and small shops, through the narrow streets and down dark alleys. Still Adam ran on, at one time seeming to have caught up with him only to lose him as he would turn a corner and become a shadow within shadows until a movement revealed him to the sharp eyed young man in pursuit of him.

“Watch out, you fool.”

A fat man stepping out of a tavern with a tankard of ale cannoned into Adam so that his pursuit was brought to a momentary halt. He stammered out his apologies and then ran on his eyes eager to catch sight of his quarry. It seemed that after all he had failed and he leaned back against the tavern wall and gasped for breath. Everywhere was still. That strange deathlike stillness that he had felt earlier when the town hall clock had chimed the hour.

He realised he was cold, that he had ran out into the snow without any outer clothing to protect him from the elements. He considered for a moment stepping into the tavern but then decided that as he was near the cemetery he would step inside. It would be fitting, he felt, on such an evening as this to go to his mother’s grave and just spend a few moments only to be with her.

The moon was enormous and so bright. When he looked up he thought he could see the cratars that astronomers spoke about, and the valleys that made it seem another world far away up there in the universe of space. Benevolently the moon shone down silver light as clear as daylight, a special beautiful evening with the snow flakes whirling and dancing in the chill bright breeze. It was quite quite magical.

Adam turned up the collar of his jacket and rubbed his his hands together. He thought of the fruitless chase he had undergone and now felt foolish. Perhaps it had just been an innocent bystander who would go to his home anxious for his life or possessions. Perhaps it had been Eli Prowse in which case if he had decided to spend such a night as this watching their house he would, no doubt, return another time. Adam shivered and turned to look over his shoulder. It was strange but the feeling of evil had touched him. It was as though he were a child again in a dark room and the shadows had suddenly taken on a completely new and horrific life.

He took a deep breath and looked down on the ground. Someone had already passed this way and very recently too for the edges of the footprints were sharp and clearly defined. Nothing marked their pristine pattern in the snow. Once again Adam looked about him, paused awhile, glanced over his shoulder. All was still and not even the little branches of the shrubs round about moved or rustled.

Round the corner and nestled in a small conclave of bushes was Elizabeth’s grave. He had visited it in springtime when the snowdrops were abundant, and later still when there had been daffodils. In the summertime the mound beneath which she slept was verdant green and lush with daisies scattered about and here Abel would come and place his small bouquet of flowers.

Adam approached the grave and looked at the gravestone with her name engraved upon it. There were the stone roses carved around the edge and seeming to tumble wildly to the ground. And there on the ground –

Adam paused and hesitated for upon the white blanket of snow there was –

Something.

He approached slowly and held his breath as though if he were to breathe at all the spell would be broken. He reached out his hand and touched it. His fingers curled around it and he lifted it from where it had been placed.

The music sounded thin and tinny but it still played its sweet melody. Within the musical box was another and Adam recognised the silver snuff box. He opened it but it was empty. The curl of black hair, the slip of narrow blue ribbon, were gone.

Alone he stood there with the snow falling and mantling his shoulders and settling upon his dark hair. He listened to the music of his mother’s musical box until he realised he was crying and the tears were cold and wet upon his face.

Of one thing he was sure, Eli Prowse was alive and not so far away.

Chapter 34

In the morning Adam watched the sun rise upon a wintry sky and wondered whether or not he had dreamt the events that had taken place the previous evening. Since childhood, and particularly since Inger’s death, he had been prone to particularly vivid and realistic dreams and he knew that what had happened was really the stuff of nightmares.

He looked around the room where the shadows were now retreating and a watery sun filtered through the window. His heart beat faster than ever when his eyes lit upon the musical box in just the place he had put it. For a moment or two he just stared at it as he recalled that the last time it had been played was in that very room when he was less than an hour old and his mother had died.

He left his bed and walked to the bureau upon which the box had been placed and he picked it up to examine it carefully. For four years he had wondered where it had been, four years in which it could have been anywhere and undergone all manner of damage but as he searched over it he could find nothing harmed, no cherub with a broken nose nor even a damaged toe. Every rose in place and as pretty as the day it had left his room.

He wound the key at its base and raised the lid. The music trickled forth through the room and he felt an immense wave of homesickness sweep over him. How he would have loved to have turned to the door and been greeted with a smile from his father or seen Joe and Hoss run into the room and bounce upon his bed. He sighed and was about to lower the lid when the door opened,

“Where did you get that?” was his Grandfather’s greeting as he strode into the room with his white bear bristling and his eyes wide with an emotion that Adam was unable to read.

“I found it. It was on Mother’s grave. I think – I suppose – it’s been returned to us.”

“By Eli Prowse?” Abel scowled and picked the musical box up in both his hands and for just a moment Adam had a terrible fear that his Grandfather was going to cast it to the floor. “You saw him?”

“He was watching the house. I ran after him and followed him to the cemetery where I found this, but he had gone.”

Abel shook his head and sighed heavily. Adam realised then how old this man really was for the folds of his face seemed more haggard than ever before and his colour was nearly waxen. He watched as Abel replaced the musical box and closed the lid,

“She loved this box and the music. She loved music anyway but this box meant so much,” Abel sighed and shook his head, then looked at Adam, “So Eli Prowse was watching the house?”

“Yes. He left this in the music box.” he showed Abel the little silver box that had contained a curl of Elizabeth’s hair and the blue ribbon, “but he has kept the curl of hair and the ribbon.”

“The man must be obsessed. Why would he leave these things for you to find now? Where’s he been all this time? Adam, I don’t feel comfortable about all this. He could be watching the house even now, watching us and waiting.”

“Waiting for what?” Adam replied, and he looked thoughtfully at the little silver box before putting it down beside the other, “I wonder where he went for those four years.”

“Wherever it was I wish he had stayed there,” Abel retorted, “In fact, I wish he were dead.” he glanced now at his grandson and shook his head, “Now then, enough of this, get yourself dressed and come and get some breakfast.”

He stomped from the room and closed the door behind him rather more noisily than usual. Adam Cartwright paused a while before walking over to the window and peering out into the snow covered scene that confronted him. His first instinct was to look over at the lamp post where the flickering of the light indicated that the lamp lighter had not yet arrived, delayed no doubt by the weather. So far as he could see there was no mark of any footprint to spoil the virgin purity of the new fallen snow.

The day passed but unlike the other days he had enjoyed with his Grandfather for now there was a cloud hanging over them. He no longer looked out to the sea to watch the ships, for his eyes were too busy scanning the faces of the men that passed him by or brushed by him in the crowded streets. He walked to the cemetery and stood at his mother’s grave but there was no peace in the solitude he chose for himself there. He was constantly looking over his shoulder or feeling a shudder down his spine in anticipation of finding Eli Prowse standing behind him.

It was with some relief he finally took his leave from his Grandfather. The old man clutched his hands between his own and held them tight to his chest,

“Should I die, lad, remember all that I own in yours. If you need anything you must let me know. Will you do that?”

Adam nodded, assured his Grandfather that he would do so and that he would see him very soon. The old man seemed happy enough with that and stood back for his Grandson to take his seat in the coach. As Adam watched the figure of his Grandfather fade from view among the many pedestrians thronging the station he wondered if he would ever see him again.

Chapter 35

Abel Stoddard heard the bell tinkle announcing a new customer and waited for the sound of voices to come from the ‘business’ side of the premises. In his office he continued to add the totals up on the ledgers with his ear to the sounds from the other side. His day was a simple one really. He started early at the Chandlers Stores doing a little stock taking or tidying up (or getting in the way and making a mess of things if you asked his employees). Then he would go into the office area and do the accounts, have some coffee, have a little nap and then go to the tavern for lunch. He would return later in the afternoon and have another little nap before writing letters and checking on other paperwork. He would always be last to leave the premises, locking up, pocketing the key and strolling home.

He was old. There was no denying the fact that twenty years from the time Ben and Elizabeth had married had taken their toll. Most men of that age were in their dotage, curled up like dried leaves and ready to blow away like the mortal dust they were … but not Abel. He was more dry, more sinewy and more bent over and yes, he needed the aid of a stick to walk by and a cap to keep his bald head warm. He was going to last forever the local people joked, and there was not one who would have wished it to be any different. He was loved, respected and admired by all.

He glanced up from his desk and frowned, unsure as to what caused him this unease, but there were certainly no voices from the other side of the store. Surely he was not wrong, his hearing was good even if his eyesight was not, and to make sure that he was had not been wrong he got up and walked to the other room. Sam Dixon looked over at him,

“Anything wrong, Captain?”

“I thought there was a customer,” Abel replied looking around, “I heard the bell.”

“That’s right,” Sam replied, nodding over to the shadows, “The gentleman over there -” he pointed towards the far corner of the store, “He said he was an acquaintance of yours and just wanted to see how you were getting on.”

“Really?” Abel frowned and looked around to see who exactly this acquaintance could be, but whoever it was seemed to prefer the acquaintance to remain just as it was – estranged. He made no effort at all to step from the shadows but remained stooped over some magnificent coils of rope as though his life depended upon it.

The bell tinkled again and a thick set ruddy faced man stepped into the store, followed by another who by the style of clothing he wore was obviously a sea man. Both men saluted Stoddard with loud hails of greeting which he reciprocated warmly before returning his attention to the man in the shadows, but, like a wraith, he had gone.

“Anything wrong, Captain?” Sam asked, “Did you see the gentleman?”

“No. He seems to have gone.” Abel said, very slowly.

“Oh, well, never mind. It may have been your grandson he wanted to see more than like,” Sam continued.

“Adam?” Abel’s eyes widened in concern and he felt the strength flow from his body so much so that Sam had to rush round from the counter to get a chair for him and carefully help him to sit down, “Tell me, Sam, what did this man look like?”

“Tall, thin -” Sam frowned and looked over at his two customers, “I’ll be with you both in a minute, sirs, if you can just wait …”

“It’s no trouble,” the first man replied, and he stepped closer to Abel and Sam, “Are you alright, Captain? Would you like me to walk you to your house?”

Abel looked at him furtively, almost afraid that this kindly offer of help were a ruse to get him outside and on his own, but recognising the man as one who had once sailed with him he shook his head and put a rather shaky hand on the man’s arm,

“Thank you, Jed, but there’s no need.” he pulled off his spectacles and rubbed his eyes, “I’ll be alright. I’ll go and get on with some work now.” and with some help from Sam he got to his feet and returned to the office.

“Do you think he’s going to be alright?” Jed asked of Sam who could only shrug and shake his head,

“I’ve not seen him that doddery before,” Sam admitted. “Mind you, he’s not been really quite right since his grandson left home.”

“Do you think they have parted on bad terms?” the other man asked, a man who had also had the privilege of sailing under Stoddard’s captaincy all those years previously.

“No, they parted on very good terms, very affectionate young Cartwright was with the old man.” Sam sighed, “Did you see the man who was here? The one who must have left as you walked in?”

“Yes,” Jed replied and glanced over his shoulder, before leaning forward across the counter to lower his voice, “Not a man you would want to meet on a dark night.”

“He had a familiar look about him though,” said the other, “although I can’t put a name to him, I’m sure I’ve known him at one time or another. But – that scar – did you see it?”

“Could you miss it?” Sam replied with a shudder, and he cast a hasty look in the direction of the office, “I just hope it doesn’t mean bad news for the Captain, that’s all I can say. Now then, gents,” his voice rose by a few decibels and he rubbed his hands together, “What can I do for you?”

In the office Abel sat resting his chin upon his hand as he thought of the dark shadow of the man who had stood in the shadows of the store. He knew without any doubt at all exactly who he had been but what he didn’t know was the reason for the man to be there at all. He bowed his head, heaved a sigh and just thanked God that Adam was no longer in the vicinity and could come to any harm.

………

It was good to be back in familiar surroundings. Although nothing could replace the Ponderosa as home, the College had an air of security about it that wrapped itself around young Adam Cartwright as he strode along the corridors to the lecture rooms, or to his own private room. There was the curious smells customary to such buildings, somewhat musty, very male, cooking smells from the kitchens, the dry smell of books and ink. The wonderfully carved staircases resounded to the thudding of many pairs of feet throughout the day, and there were the echoes of voices in the corridors at all hours. After 18 months it had become his home from home where he had a public life and a private life all bound up in one neat package.

He was able to concentrate on his studies, listen to the dry tones of his lecturers, enjoy the companionship of young men of his age and some younger or older, and he could leave the thought of Eli Prowse well behind him. The only reminder of the man was making its way home to the Ponderosa, neatly packaged up and addressed to Ben Cartwright.

The snow fell heavily down upon the roof and spires of the college, thus beautifying the buildings. It covered the quadrangles and walkways so that after many feet had trampled over it the night transformed them to ice which trapped the unwary and sent them sliding and skidding to their appointed places.

“Hey. Cartwright.”

Adam turned as Andrew Hadcroft called over to him and he stopped to wait for the young man to reach his side, which he did after sliding and slipping some paces.

“How did you get on with your vacation?” Hadcroft asked, stepping into line with Adam so that they strolled along together along the outer corridors and free from the ice.

“Well enough,” Adam replied, “What about yourself?”

“Oh, you know?” Hadcroft shrugged, “Meeting the grandparents and aunts of which I seem to have trillions. Quite boring really. I suppose it wasn’t much different for you, can’t be much fun staying with an old man all the time. No girls about I suppose?”

“No, no girls about,” Adam replied with a slight smile and looking straight ahead, “And I enjoy my time with my grandfather. He’s a lot to tell me.”

“Of course, I forgot, a sea captain I believe?”

“Yes.” Adam frowned slightly, and decided he wanted to change the subject, thinking about his grandfather reminded him of someone else who had shared, uninvited, their brief vacation.

“You’ve led such a strange life, Cartwright. I quite envy you really.”

“Do you?” Adam turned and looked at the other in surprise for it never occurred to him that anyone could envy him the hardships and terrible situations he had had to face in his lifetime compared to their comfortable secure lives.

“I should say so, after all, how many do you know here who has fought wild Indians, and seen the things you’ve seen?” Hadcroft grinned, “We’ve mostly all lived here with our families who go back to the Pilgrim fathers or similar. Nice and comfortable lives, and boring.”

Adam frowned. Perhaps if his mother and father had not had a dream, and perhaps if Ben had not been so stubborn about pursuing it he would be complaining himself of having had a nice comfortable life. Plenty of doctors about, libraries to browse in, balls and parties with pretty girls practically coming out of the woodwork … he couldn’t understand how anyone could envy him who had never enjoyed such an abundance of these things before in his life.

“Listen, Cartwright, my family are having a soiree at the weekend with some old family friends. Wouldn’t care to come along, would you?”

Adam smiled, nodded and hoisted his books closer under his arm. Life, he thought, could be very complex at times, and yet, at other times, so simple.How easy it was for an invitation to be tossed into conversation for an evenings association in good society, with pleasant food, good wine to drink, and, knowing Hadcroft and his family, pretty girls. Not one of them could possibly imagine how barren life was in Nevada territory, for if they did, they would not envy him one iota.

Chapter 36

Abel locked his door, double checked it, and then walked to the window of his sitting room. He didn’t light the lamps nor the candles so that he could look out of the window without being observed himself. Nor would his own reflection bounce back at him and obscure what he needed to see for himself. Having fixed his spectacles carefully upon his nose he peered out into the dark night.

For some moments he stood very still not wanting to see anything different to all the nights he had gazed upon that same view in so many different seasons and weathers. He didn’t want to know that out there in the shadows someone was watching his house, patient like a spider in the centre of his web. He pulled out a handkerchief and mopped about his brow. For all these years he had lived alone and never felt anything but security and warmth wrap itself around him as soon as he stepped through the door of his home. Now, with that hint of fear, everything was changed, changed totally. He saw things in shadows that he had never seen or noticed before, things that upon inspection did not even exist. He heard sounds now that for some reason were different to the sounds he had heard every day since he had first come to live in that house. He drew in a short shuddering breath and turned away to sit in darkness before the small fire that Mrs Grimshaw had prepared and lit for him.

The flames flickered lazily for the fire was dying out, and Abel, for some reason or another had no inclination to foster them by adding more fuel to them. He realised now how tired he was, and how purposeless his life.

“I’ve lived too long,” he murmured and bowed his head as though the matter needed further consideration.

A sound. Furtive overhead. Perhaps a rat? He reached for his stick in order to get to his feet, and told himself yet again that he should ask Mrs Grimshaw for the loan of her cat. His eyes were fixed upon the stairs as a shadowy light appeared, a shadow moved as very slowly someone came down the stairs. One step at a time with an oil lamp held aloft in his hand. Eli Prowse stepped from the bottom stair and turned into the room, and held the lamp a little further away from himself so that he could see better into the room. He stood very still and in the dark room with the one lamp, the one he himself held at arms length, the shadows played uncannily over his face.
How vivid the scar that traced across his visage and how black, how cold and evil, were the narrow slanted eyes within that sallow face.

Abel Stoddard could not move. He tightened his grip upon his stick in order to stay upright and his one thought was to show no fear. His knuckles were white as he clutched tightly upon the cane and he knew his knees were trembling, although he hoped that would not be too obvious to his uninvited guest.

“How dark it is in here, Abel? And I thought you a rich man, rich enough to light your lamps and candles, surely?”

Eli stepped further into the room and set down the one lamp before striking a taper with a match and going around the room lighting others. Then he pinched out the flame and cast the taper into the dying fire. He then turned and faced the old man,

“Well, Captain, how pleasant to meet you again, after all these years.” he drew in a deep breath, thrust out his chest and squared his shoulders as he clasped his hands behind his back, flouncing out the skirts of his long coat as he did so. He was a man at perfect ease with himself and the situation, a man in control of everything.

“How did you get in to my house?” Abel demanded, thrusting out his chin and drawing himself as straight as he could, which, at his age, was not as effective as it once may have been.

“The lady you employ, Mrs Grimshaw, was happy to let me in.” Eli said in a soft voice, “Gave me plenty of time to look around the place, and to see what changes you had made.”

“What were you looking for? If you wanted anything in particular you had only to ask when you came to the store this morning.”

“True enough” Eli replied, “But there seemed little point in doing so with so many people coming and going. As it was, Captain, I had things I wanted to say and see and do that could only be accomplished in privacy here.”

Abel knew his legs would not support him for much longer so he sat down with as much confidence as he possibly could show, hoping that Prowse would not note just how lacking in that quality he was feeling.

“Actually,” Eli’s thin lips parted in a cold sneer of a smile, “I’m quite amazed to see you at all. I had been told you were dead. In fact if your grandson had been telling me the truth you should have been dead some – oh let me see – some six years ago at least!”

“Well, as you can see I’m very much alive , so say what you have to say and go.”

“Mmm, well, I don’t know. I hate liars. I was surprised that your grandson would lie to me like that, I mean, why? What was the point of telling me you were dead unless …” Eli gave a flippant shrug of the shoulders and his thin lips twisted into a cruel smirk, “unless he was trying to protect you for some reason.”

“Nonsense. I don’t need him to protect me from the likes of you.”

“Really?” the word was uttered in a cold flat voice and the dark narrow eyes glittered in the light of the candles and lamps like that of a serpent that had crawled its way through the wainscoting to the warmth of the fire. Yet no serpent could have caused the old man’s heart to beat so fearfully as Prowse’ presence had.

“Eli Prowse, Adam has told me of what happened when you attacked his family four years ago. He told me everything. It just proved to me that you had not changed, not at all. And to kill your own brother -” Abel’s voice fade on a note of disgust that was tangible so that Prowse leaned towards him and seized the arms of the chair in his hands and glared into the old man’s face,

“Kill my brother? Is that what he told you? Is it? Well, so be it, for it’s true, I had to kill Jude. There was no other cause open for me than that and I don’t regret it. As you for you, old man, do you think I care whether you live or die now? No. I came here to see you, because I wanted you to know that before long your precious grandson will be joining your daughter in the graveyard not so far away from here. Did you get my gift to you both? I know you did for I found this upstairs in her room-” and he stepped back and produced from his pocket the silver snuff box which he held between finger and thumb and which gleamed dully in the candlelight.

“Adam didn’t want to touch what was yours – he took only what had been his mothers.” Abel replied coldly and with a touch of pride in his voice.

“Just remember this, old man, you were responsible for everything that has happened; the blame for Elizabeth’s death was yours; the blame for Adam Cartwright’s death will be yours.”

“Why? How?” Abel snapped sharply, “A man is responsible for his own follies, his decisions are his own. I did not shape you to be the kind of man you are – or the man you were when you sailed ship with me.”

“I loved her. You knew that -”

“She did not love you. I did not want her to love you either -”

Eli moved away a few paces from the old man. Very slowly, very deliberately he slipped the snuff box back into his pocket.

“Just remember, Captain Abel Stoddard, the fault is yours. No one else’s. Yours -.”

Abel sat as though frozen to the chair and unable to move. His heart was thudding so hard and so swiftly that breathing was difficult. Eli Prowse stared deep into the old man’s face and then stepped away. A few more steps and he was at the door and the bolts were drawn back, the key turned, the door opened and closed. There was a rush of cold air from outside and then nothing.

For some minutes Abel remained in his chair. He placed a hand on his heart. There was such pain there now and still the thudding of it didn’t stop. The pain was crushing his chest and shooting up into his jaw and long his shoulders. He willed it to stop, but still it pounded on relentlessly. Eli Prowse was no longer in the room but evil remained. It flowed throughout the room and wrapped itself around Abel Stoddard as though it were enshrouding him in a thick cocoon.

He rose to his feet and unsteadily reached for his cane. It was only a few paces to the table where his writing materials were set out. Now, he had to think, but the pain was making thinking so hard. He picked up his pen, dipped it into the ink. No time to draw out a chair and sit, he hadn’t the strength to pull the chair away only to dip the pen into the inkwell and pull a sheet of paper towards him

“Adam -” the word looked like a spider had crawled over the paper, the ink blobbed and trickled upon the paper’s white surface and he stared at it as though it made no sense to him.

The pain – no sense in anything any more.

Chapter 37

Bella Carlisle was indeed a pretty girl. She was very slender and of medium height. Her eyes were a perfect light blue framed by long lashes and her hair was black, even more so than Adams, and her face was a perfect oval. She was, as her cousin Andrew Hadcroft had promised, as ‘cute as a button’.

The soiree at Hadcroft’s parents home was indeed pleasant. Andrew’s family had rather taken a shine to this tall gifted young man with such an unusual background. If Adam felt himself in any way patronised, he did not show it. He was grateful for the kindnesses shown him for such had been in short supply during his life time, not because those he had known were particularly cruel and unkind, but because there was such a scarcity of people with which such niceties could be shown.

Bella was fascinated by him the moment he had walked into the room alongside her cousin. She had hoped that her mouth had not actually dropped open in delight, pleasure, amazement but she knew that was how she had felt. The other young woman who had accompanied her, Julia Moncrieff, had actually sighed out loud so that Mrs Hadcroft had turned a very stern eye towards her in admonition.

“May I introduce my cousin, Bella Carlisle and her companion, Miss Julia Moncrieff.” Andrew said with a smile at them both as they rose to their feet and bobbed a curtsey to the young man, “Bella, Julia, this is Mr Adam Cartwright from the Ponderosa in Nevada Territory.”

“Pleased to meet you, sir.” Julia sighed, “Are you at college with Andrew?”

“I am,” Adam replied and smiled at them both. His dark eyes glanced from one to the other of them, his lips smiled to expose white teeth, and his dark hair fell in thick dark waves to his collar.

Bella cleared her throat knowing she had to say something before Julia stole her opportunity to do so, but somehow she couldn’t find the right words. She cleared her throat again,

“Are you alright, Miss – er – Carlisle?”

Bella nodded, blushed, and lowered her head. What would he think of her, she inwardly groaned. This wonderful handsome young man would think she was ignorant, gauche, stupid. He turned away from her and she could have wept. Opportunity lost. Then he turned back and in his hand was a glass of wine, which he passed to her,

“This should help,” he smiled and dimples creased his cheeks, the dark eyes twinkled but were kind, “Can I get you anything else?”

“You’re most kind, but -” she reached for her fan, the heat in this room was terrible, and she knew her corsets were too tight, she thought she was going to faint.

“Some fresh air?”

“I’m alright,” she insisted, and sat down rather abruptly. Whatever would the Hadcrofts think if she were to go outside for some air within minutes of meeting Adam Cartwright. Goodness, the soiree had only just begun after all and there were several more hours of company to be enjoyed, or endured, whichever the case may be in such circumstances as these, she felt.

“Tell us a little about yourself, Mr Cartwright?” Julia Moncrieff looked at the young man with a generous smile and was rewarded with one in return.

Julia was not as ‘cute as a button’ in the way Bella could be described. But Adam could see that she was intelligent, and not the kind of girl who would pretend to have their heads turned by flattery. She had bright hazel eyes, freckles, and a stubborn chin, she was also inclined to stoutness even at her youthful age of seventeen.

“There’s little to tell,” Adam replied politely handing her a glass of wine from the table behind him, “My father was a seaman and together we travelled west. When my stepmother died,” he paused a moment and thought the two girls looked like half starved sparrows in a nest awaiting a fat juicy worm, it was rather off putting, “my father felt I should benefit from an education because that was what my mother would have wanted and my stepmother endorsed. So here I am -,” and he smiled at them both as though he had rather pulled a rabbit out of a hat.

“It’s odd, but you really are very well behaved in matters of etiquette,” Bella said in such an innocent manner that Adam could have laughed out aloud although another could well have taken it as an insult, “I mean, coming from the wilderness and surrounded by wild people and mountain men and Indians – that’s what I mean, I hope you forgive me if I sound in any way – well – if I seem to imply in any way -” she floundered and hid her face behind her fan in embarrassment at the sound of Julia’s tchah tchah.

“My father taught me well and my stepmother was a well bred lady from New Orleans,” Adam replied bristling a little at having to explain such a matter. Back home it would have been considered gross bad manners to have even broached the subject but here they seemed to have a need to winkle out even the tiniest scrap of information that could be chewed over and dissected to the nth degree.

“Did you not have a stepmother killed by Indians?” Andrew Hadcroft asked, “I’m sure the ladies would be thrilled to hear of such an adventure.” and his pleasant face beamed at them all.

Julia stood up and turned her back upon Andrew in a manner which indicated more clearly than words that she considered his comment unworthy of a gentleman. She opened her fan and looked at Adam without a smile,

“I apologise if we appear overly curious, Mr Cartwright, and perhaps intrusive into your private life. In fact, far too intrusive in some ways. Tell us what subjects you are studying at college and what hopes you have for your future?”

Adam opened his mouth to speak when the door opened and there was a very masculine cough which caused all in the room to turn to face the Hadcroft’s manservant,

“A message from the Dean for Mr Cartwright but he asks your pardon and requests your company immediately in his office.”

“Oh, what a shame,” Bella sighed, “Just when we were getting to know you. Perhaps another time?”

Adam bowed his head in agreement, bowed graciously to Julia and to his host and hostess and took his leave.

As he sat in the cab taking him back to the college he thought over the little time he had spent at the Hadcrofts that evening. From the window of the vehicle he saw the rows of houses glowing with lights and heard the sounds of a town still busy with the night life that such enjoyed. He thought of home and the evenings spent riding through the woodland with no sign of any human habitat. Of stars that twinkled from the heavens and the moonlight that led him homewards. He knew that every man there, and every woman too, had been prepared to die for what land they could garner for themselves. Hardships that killed them, starved their children, massacred them by the wagonload … deserving of respect, honour and admiration. Not as an entertainment, an anecdote to round off the evening, dismissed as a source of amusement.

He closed his eyes and then opened them again. Outside he smelt the odours of fires, of human bodies, of too much traffic and an accumulation of smells reminiscent of sewage and bad cooking. At home there would have been the smell of pine needles and cold frozen undergrowth trampled and broken by his horse’s passage through them. At home he would have been welcomed by the warmth of a fire, Hop Sing’s cooking, loud shouts and bellows from his brothers and a warm smile from his father.

Suddenly he was overwhelmed by the feeling of homesickness for all that he loved the most. Oh how he wished he could be travelling home now away from the hypocritical veneer of sophistication here, and far away from the conversation he was about to have with the Dean of the college for which he had the greatest foreboding.

…………….

Sam Dixon stood in the Deans study holding tightly to his hat and looking as though he would gladly have bolted had he the chance to do so. When Adam entered the room a look of such relief flooded his face that Adam could have laughed had he not realised that the man’s presence signified only one thing and that was that his Grandfather needed him.

“Ah, Cartwright, do come in and close the door behind you.”

Adam did as he was told and waited for the Deanl to continue speaking although he could tell from the workings of Sam’s face that he was about to hear bad news and prepared himself for it.

“Mr Dixon informs me that he has some bad news in connection with your Grandfather. You may confer here if you wish or in the communal rooms.”

“If it’s all the same to you, sir, I may as well hear what Sam has to say here for I can imagine what it is for myself.” Adam replied and took a deep breath to fill his lungs as though better to sustain himself when Sam told him what had to be said.

“I’m sorry, Mr Adam, but your Grandfather, Mr Stoddard, is dead. The doctor said he had a massive seizure which carried him off in no time at all. The doctor said he would not have suffered overlong and that’s a fact.” Sam paused and glanced at the Dean and then back at Adam, “The doctor thinks you should return home for things to be dealt with, if you know what I mean, Mr Adam.”

Adam said nothing but turned to the Dean but before he had time to open his mouth the Dean nodded and stood up, extended his hand and seized that of the young man’s in his own with such warmth that Adam was more surprised at that gesture than the news Sam had brought him,

“Take as much time as you feel you need, young man. I’m most sorry for you.”

“Thank you, sir.” Adam replied and then he turned to Sam, “Come along, Mr Dixon, I shan’t take long to get ready perhaps we can be in time to get a coach out of here.”

He bowed politely upon leaving the study and walked hurriedly to his room. His heart seemed numb of feeling, but his brain was working over and over as he asked himself repeatedly ‘Why now? Where was Eli Prowse? Why had Grandfather to die now and yet had not both of them in some strange manner expected it?”

Chapter 38

Adam took off his hat as he entered the house and for a moment he stood just inside the threshold to look about him. Mrs Grimshaw had a fire burning in the hearth, and he could smell food cooking. He looked up the stairs and recalled once more his father telling him how one evening, when Elizabeth had been heavy with child, she had slipped on the bottom stairs and how he had carried her to her room which she had never vacated again while still alive.

He remembered the times he would sit in the chair opposite his grandfather in the evenings. The sound of the fire crackling, a chair creaking, pages of his book turning as he pursued page after page. The old man in his chair, white hair fringing a tonsure of bald head and a white beard past its finest days. With a shuddering sigh Adam closed the door behind him and stepped inside casting his valise down at the bottom of the stairs and walking to the fire to warm his hands.

“I’ve made you something to eat, Mr Adam. Would you like some hot coffee, good and strong after your ride?”

Mrs Grimshaw stood in the doorway of the kitchen wiping her big red hands on her white apron. She meant well and Adam nodded and muttered his thanks. He put his hands towards the flames and blinked rapidly to avoid tears. Grandfather Abel was old, but he had never complained of a weak heart nor mentioned that he had recourse to consult the doctor. Also, he may have been old but he was not THAT old! Adam knew mountain men who could add a decade to Abel’s age and still be fit and strong.

Mrs Grimshaw bustled into the room and placed down the coffee utensils, carefully and efficiently she poured him out a cup of the strong dark brew and glanced at him, as though seeking his commendation, but she received none for Adam was looking at the little side table upon which his grandfather wrote his letters.

“We left everything as it was when we found him,” Mrs Grimshaw promptly volunteered, “I found him in the morning when I came to get the breakfast ready and set out a new fire for him. He must have been starting a letter to you, Mr Adam, when it happened. He fell right where you’re standing now.”

Adam nodded for her voice came as though through a funnel miles away. Writing to him was he? Just one word – his name – no salutation at all just his name. Adam stared at the white paper and the ink blot that trickled down the page, at the splatter mark where the pen had fallen from the fingers that had gone into a spasm with their final agony. He stared at his name that had been sprawled thinly across the page.

He realised his mouth had gone dry and his lips felt numb. He couldn’t speak a word but looked down on the floor. Thank goodness there had been carpet here, he thought, otherwise Grandfather would have hurt himself as he fell. His eyes travelled around the room until they finally came to rest upon the woman standing there as though she also had been struck dumb,

“Was my grandfather alone when he died?”

“Why, yes, of course he was,” she replied quickly, “Yes, yes, of course.”

Adam picked up the pen and put it to one side and he put down the lid of the ink well. The paper he picked up, screwed up in his hand and threw into the fire.

“Have your coffee, Mr Adam, you must be cold after your journey.”

“One moment -” he said quietly and he turned to mount the stairs.

He went into Abel’s room first and it was as it had always been – very spare in furniture with a bed, a chest of drawers and a sea mans chest in the corner. His grandfather’s bible was open at Psalm 23 and beside the bible was a painted picture behind glass of his mother and grandmother. A lamp had been left burning over long for the funnel was black from soot.

He went into the other room where he had been born and where he had latterly slept. Here too everything was just as it had always been. He looked around the room once more, feeling more and more certain that he had overlooked something and then he realised what it was, something was, indeed, missing from when he was last in that room.

He hurried down the stairs again with his eyes upon the worn carpeting and then took the cup of coffee from her and cupped it with his hands to thaw out his frozen fingers. The paper he had cast into the flames was black now and curled over, about to disintegrate into ash.

“My grandfather had a visitor the night he died,” he said softly, “A tall thin man with a scar on his face.”

“Gracious me, sir, how did you know that?” Mrs Grimshaw exclaimed and turned back to look at him in amazement for she was on her way to the kitchen to bring him his hot meal.

“Something has been taken from my room which would only be of interest to that particular person. Also there’s signs of mud on the stair carpet.”

“But that could have been done by anyone. There’s been quite a bit of coming and goings these past few days.”

“Did you see him then, this man I mentioned?”

Mrs Grimshaw looked at the young face, pale and resolute with the dark eyes staring into her face and the finely drawn mouth looking so like his mothers and she nodded,

“Yes. He said he was an old friend of Abels. He said he would just sit by the fire and wait.” she bit her bottom lip, “I would have turned him away but to tell you the truth, he frightened me so. I just opened the door, let him in and then hurried home. I just felt I couldn’t bear to be in the same house as him.”

Adam said nothing. He drank his coffee and stared at the fire and watched as his Grandfather’s last communication to him fell into ash. He had known as soon as he had seen that piece of paper with the frantically written word upon it that his Grandfather was sending him a warning, it had been as obvious as though the old man had been standing by his side and had whispered, not Adam, but Eli – Eli Prowse.

Chapter 39

Hoss Cartwright breathed as hard as he could upon the glass in the window and then rubbed it with his fingers so that the warm air melted the frost that had so beautifully patterned the glass. He did it again and again until eventually he was able to see clearly out to the yard. For some minutes he watched Hop Sing struggling to dismantle nightshirts, socks and shirts that were frozen stiff and parodied the human body so well. The various assortment of frozen garments that looked like cardboard cut outs either refused to move or forced Hop Sing to dance around them so that when nightshirt and Hop Sing got together they became rather entangled and appeared to be engaged in a rather stiff polka.

It amused Hoss who giggled and chuckled until his sides ached by which time the glass had frozen over again and he had to breathe hard on the glass once more to get it defrosted. Joseph Cartwright paused in picking his nose to ask his brother what was so funny and joined him in peering out to watch the pantomime outside.

“Boys – come away from there and get on with your lessons.”

“Aw, Pa, do we have to?”

“Stop whining. Hoss, if we ever get a school established at Eagle Station would you really want to be the dunce?” Ben frowned over at his sons and received a silent response, “Well, would you?”

“No, Pa.”

“Then come along and get out your reading book. Joe, where’s your primer?”

“Upstairs.” the reluctant scholar cried and proceeded to run for the stairs.

“No it ain’t,” Hoss protested, “He’s lying, Pa. He hid it behind the cushions, so he did too.”

Joe gave a cry of passion and ran across the room to launch himself at his brother with legs kicking and arms flailing which rather amused Hoss who pretended to fall backwards and roll over the floor.

“ENOUGH”

Silence fell and after several sighs and grumbles the two boys righted themselves up and collected their assignments for the day. The only good thing about lessons was that they would be near the fire. True to say it toasted only one side of them while the other side froze but they were hardy boys and when it got too much to bear they just moved round and changed sides.

“Pa, I’m bored.” Joe suddenly protested.

“You wouldn’t be if you concentrated on your lessons. How much have you written?”

Joe picked up his primer and brought it over to the desk where Ben had been busy working on the ledgers. With a sigh Ben picked it up and looked at it carefully, before handing it back and telling Joe to write more neatly and to do several more lines.

“Are you bored too, Pa?” Joe asked in his sweetest ‘best way to distract Pa’ tone of voice.

“No, I’m too busy to be bored.”

There was a crash from the kitchen and both boys turned and ran to find out what had happened. Ben was close behind them to see what was going on, and found Hop Sing flat on his back. When fighting with two frozen nightshirts much larger than himself Hop Sing had come off the loser for as they ‘defrosted’ they had puddled on the floor and into this puddle he had stepped and slipped over.

“Oh Hop Sing, are you alright?” cried Hoss, running over to his friend and grabbing at his arms in order to help him to his feet.

“All fine. Weather too cold and washing too stiff.” Hop Sing huffed and puffed, and got to his feet.

“I think we need some hot drinks all round, Hop Sing. Hoss, fill the kettle and put it on the stove. Joe, help Hop Sing.”

Joseph frowned and looked at the frozen garments that were beginning to bend into rather weird shapes now that the warmer air of the kitchen was reaching them. He stepped back and shook his head,

“I’ve got to do my writing.” he yelled and promptly disappeared into the main room.

He worked hard at producing some good writing for Ben. It meant fierce concentration, with the tip of his tongue protruding from the corner of his mouth and his brows knitting together while his little brow became quite furrowed. When Ben came and took the paper from him he looked up with a smile,

“Is it good, Pa?”

“Yes, son, it’s very good. I like the drawing you’ve done of Hop Sing with the nightshirts. I think Adam will be very pleased to see this.” and Ben smiled slowly, and thought of his eldest son and sighed.

“Pa, I miss Adam.” Joe sighed too, and wrapped his arms around his father’s neck, “When’s he coming home?”

“Not for a while yet, Joseph. He has to finish his education.”

“Why couldn’t he stay here like me an’ Hoss. You could education him here, couldn’t you?”

“No, sadly not.” Ben ruffled the boys curls and tweaked his nose, “I promised Adam’s Ma that he would get a good schooling, and his Grandfather Stoddard has put forward a lot of money to ensure that he got it. Besides, Adam’s a clever boy and deserves the opportunity of making the best of his life.”

“I want him home now,” sighed the little tyrant who was so used to getting what he wanted that he couldn’t see why this one wish, the wish of his heart, could not be granted right here and now.

“So do I, son, so do I.”

“Is he in college now?”

“Yes. Probably studying very hard indeed.” Ben turned as Hoss came into the room and put down a plate of cookies. It was obvious from the crumbs around his mouth and on his shirt that he had already sampled some.

“Look at my letter for Adam, Hoss. Do you like it?”

Hoss surveyed the letter and picture with a critical eye and then nodded. He then looked at his father with a slight frown,

“Pa, I didn’t know Joe was writing a letter to Adam. I want to write a letter too.”

“Very well, Hoss, write your letter and make sure it’s your very best handwriting. Then I’ll put it in a big envelope and it can go all the way to Boston for him to read.” Ben sighed and looked into the fire; he wondered how his boy was for letters were far and few and it had been some time since his son’s last correspondence had arrived for them. The postal services were nothing like they were to become once Eagle Station had grown to become the township of Virginia City. No, months could pass before a letter arrived to announce the death or birth in a family, or a visitor could turn up on one’s doorstep weeks before the letter that should have announced his date for arrival. As for a telegraph service, well, that was still something of a dream for such a remote area as the Ponderosa.

Joe settled down to read a book, or rather to look at the pictures in a book, while Hoss scribbled intently the words of his letter to his brother. Ben leaned his head upon his hand, his elbow resting upon the arm of his chair, and he gazed into the flames to recall that last moment with Adam, and when he had recalled it to mind, he fervently wished he had not.

Chapter 40

The sky was slate grey with a miserable apology of a sun fighting to show through darker grey clouds. The snow had faded away and the ground had been soft enough for the gravedigger to do his work. A miserable day for a miserable occasion.

Adam Cartwright stood between Sam Dixon and Mrs Grimshaw during the funeral of Abel Stoddard. There were numerous faceless unknowns crowded in the cemetery to bid their final farewell to the man who had become one of their towns characters. Behind his back Mrs Grimshaw and Mr Dixon passed anxious glances at each other and then would look at Adam and sigh. It was too obvious that the young man was suffering and Mrs Grimshaw’s kindly matronly heart was tugged by sadness for him.

Adam stood by the side of the grave and watched the coffin being lowered. He stood with shoulders straight, his hat held in his hands, and his eyes fixed on one spot throughout the whole proceedings. The words spoken by the Pastor floated over his head, kindly words whispered to him as people departed made little impression. He felt as though his body weighed nothing and his head was floating from his shoulders. Sounds were muted. It seemed to him his whole world had turned grey, just like the sky above, everything.

Mrs Grimshaw nudged him at the point where he had to cast down a clod of soil upon the coffin and the dull thud as it landed sent a shudder running through him. People were leaving, words were whispered, clothes rustled and on the bough of a tree a bird trilled out his song more refreshingly sweet and comforting than any spoken word had been throughout that long day.

“Come back to my place now, Mr Cartwright. You need something hot inside of you before you go to the lawyer.” Mrs Grimshaw tugged at his sleeve and he turned obediently , then paused again to gaze down at the coffin.

“You’ll be warmer indoors, Mr Adam,” Sam urged and glanced at Mrs Grimshaw and rolled his eyes as though indicating that it was his opinion that the young man had lost his senses due to the suddenness of it all.

Adam sighed and followed them. He paused once more and looked at his mother’s grave. He shuddered again but placed a small bouquet of flowers beside the headstone. Their petals moved in the air unlike the petals of the roses engraved in stone that trailed about her name

He hadn’t realised how cold he was until he stepped into Mrs Grimshaw’s busy confined little home. The fire was roaring and her family seemed to fill most of the room. He loosened his cravat and slipped out of his coat, and was promptly seized upon by Mr Grimshaw who insisted on introducing him to everyone there ‘All good stalwart friends of Abels, believe me.’ said Grimshaw.

It was an ordeal. Each face that peered into his was also carefully scrutinised by himself. There was only one face he wanted to see now. Only one person on his mind and it was not Abel Stoddard.

The lawyer’s office came next and he trudged up the stairs to the office with heavy feet and listened to the words that poured out of the man’s mouth. There were several bequests, Abel was a generous man. Sam Dixon now owned the Chandlers Stores that Ben had originally owned with Abel. Mrs Grimshaw was gifted a hundred dollars, a small fortune for that time period. The house and its contents, and all monies accrued during Abel’s lifetime was bequeathed to his grandson, Adam Cartwright, for his education and future life.

“You must be very pleased,” the lawyer said without a vestige of emotion in his voice.
His eyes were tired. His was not a happy job and he didn’t enjoy any of it. He looked at Adam and Adam returned the emotionless scrutiny with one of his own.

“Not really,” Adam replied standing up and he sighed, “I would rather my Grandfather were still alive.”

“Oh, of course, of course you do,” came the most insincere expression of the day, and he extended his hand which Adam could barely bring himself to touch.

“I want to sell off the house. Can I leave you to deal with that ? I shall be going back to college soon and then – I mean – I doubt if I shall be returning here.”

“Very well. What purchase price would you place upon it?” the man rubbed his hands together, and his face was blank of expression although his mind was now actively working out the percentage his commission would make in the price.

“Any. It doesn’t interest me,” Adam said as he picked up his hat and turned away,
“Just deal with it, deduct your commission, and put the remainder into my bank.”

“I’ll do that with pleasure, Mr Cartwright,” and he smiled as the young man closed the door himself, “Yes, with pleasure.” he murmured and returned to his desk, folded away the Last Will & Testament of one Abel Stoddard and began to draft out the particulars of a Bill of Sale for the little house that had been Elizabeth Cartwright’s birthplace as well as that of her death.

Adam strode back to the house with that sense of unreality still surrounding him. The clouds had become greyer still and the sun was fast retreating for the day. People passed and his eyes glanced up at each one of them. He searched each one their face before, with a sigh, he resumed his return home.

Mrs Grimshaw had built up the fire and there was food and drink on the table. Adam closed the door behind him and locked it. He went to the window and pulled across the drapes. Then he slumped down on the chair by the fire and rested his face upon his cupped hand, with his elbow resting upon the arm of the chair. His gaze was fixed now upon the flames of the fire while he thought of what had been his Grandfather’s final moments. He thought also of Abel Stoddard. Had the wretched creature been in the house at the moment Abel had died? Had he stood by and watched the old man die with no offer of help? Adam could so clearly picture the tall cadaverous man standing by the door with his long coat wrapped close around him that his young heart tightened with a feeling of hatred he had never experienced in his lifetime.

Chapter 41

The banging on the door startled Adam into wakefulness. It took him a moment to collect his wits about him for he had fallen into a deep sleep in the old chair by the fire. He got to his feet, rubbed his face to put some life into it and walked to the door. He paused long enough to tease from its hiding place the revolver he had hidden there on his very first visit . Hiding this behind his back he stepped up to the door,

“Who is it?”

“I need to speak to Abel Stoddard. You don’t know me, sir, but I need to speak to you.”

Adam frowned, the voice was that of a stranger but at the same time could it be Eli’s?
He bit his bottom lip doubtfully, his head bowed in thought, then deciding that Eli was hardly likely to knock on the door and ask to come in he drew back the bolt, and turned the key in the lock. The door opened and he found himself looking at a very tall big built man who was holding a lantern at face level. It was most definitely NOT Eli Prowse.

“Come in.” he said resignedly, and stepped back for the big man to pass by him.

Once inside Adam closed the door. He gestured towards the seating area, and while his unexpected guest walked in to take a seat Adam slid the revolver back into obscurity.

“What is it?” he sat down in the chair opposite the man, and leaned down to throw some logs on the dying fire. The room was cold. Breath from their mouths formed misty clouds.

“I’m sorry, sir. I was expecting rather an older man that yourself. I’d rather wait awhile to see Mr Stoddard, if it’s all the same to you.”

“You’ll have a long wait,” Adam replied dryly, “Abel Stoddard is – was – my Grandfather. You’re obviously a stranger in town not to have know he died a few days ago. I’m Adam Cartwright.”

“Adam Cartwright?” the man almost shot out of his seat to stand up in amazement, “Why, that’s even better. I mean, I should say, that I am sorry to hear about Mr Stoddard’s death, very sorry indeed.” he frowned, sat down and wrapped his travelling cloak around him. “Was it unexpected, sir? Mr Stoddard’s death, I mean?”

“Yes. He was elderly but in good health.”

“And unexpected? Dear me, gracious – I’m too late after all.”

“Too late? In what way do you mean?”

The man removed his hat which he placed carefully by his side on the table. He had a darkly tanned face, pale blue eyes that seemed too blue in contract to the darkness of his skin, a nose that had obviously been broken at some time and another, and a generous mouth. The stubble on his face indicated that he had been travelling some time. He now passed across his chin a large broad hand and his face assumed a troubled air,

“I suppose I should start from the beginning, but before I do so could you put my mind at rest by confirming that Mr Stoddard was not – er – murdered?”

Adam raised his eyebrows and his dark eyes darkened to the extent that the iris appeared to have melted into the deep brown.

“I don’t know if I can answer that question. The doctor said my Grandfather died of a massive seizure.”

“And yourself, sir? What do you think?”

Adam cleared his throat and his eyes caught sight of the uneaten food, the cold drinks on the table. The fire he was pleased to note was coming back to life.

“Who exactly are you, sir, and why do you ask these questions?”

“I’m sorry.” the big man stood up once again and extended his hand, “I’m Arthur Williams. I’m the Governor of a prison in Missouri.”

Adam said nothing although his mind started to dart in various different directions, he shook the mans hand and sat down. Williams did likewise although he kept his cloak close about him.

“You’re a long way out of Missouri, sir.”

“Yes, and I’m hoping that I shall still be Governor of the prison by the time I return,” the big man smiled, his eyes crinkled pleasantly and there were dimples in his cheeks. “Mr Cartwright, I take it that you have heard of a man called Eli Prowse?”

“Yes, I have.”

“And I take it, from you previous comment, that Prowse has already been here?”

“Yes, he has.”

“And you think he killed your Grandfather?”

“I c an only assume that he did something that caused my Grandfather’s death.” Adam said quietly.

To that comment Arthur Williams nodded slowly. He then glanced at the food and raised his eyebrows questioningly, Adam rose to his feet,

“Please, help yourself. I’ll make some fresh coffee and then you can tell me what this is all about.”

When Adam had returned with the coffee, which was steaming hot and strong, Williams had discarded his cloak and his face had lost the pinched look of weariness combined with the cold. He ate his food slowly and with a genteelness that made Adam think of Bella and Julia and their views on etiquette. He sat down once again in his Grandfather’s chair and after pouring out the coffee leaned against the back, crossed one leg over the other, and waited.

“Some years ago Eli Prowse was found guilty of murder. You don’t seem surprised? Well, I can imagine if you have had dealings with him in the past you would not be. He rode into a town in Missouri, and became obsessed with a young woman there. Apparently he would not leave her alone and eventually he killed her.”

“What did she look like?” Adam asked quietly, toying with a silver spoon that belonged to a set that from the hall mark had come from England.

“Petite, black hair, large brown eyes, very pretty. Yes, I know what you’re thinking and no doubt you’re right. She resembled Elizabeth Stoddard a little more than she should have done for her health’s sake. He was caught and tried and sent to my prison.”

“He should have been hanged.”

“He was due to be but he escaped before the sentence was carried out… obviously. He managed to evade the law for almost a year before he was caught and returned to my jail.”

“And escaped again.” Adam said with a note of contempt in his voice.

Williams said nothing and did not react to the comment no doubt feeling that it was justified. He drank some coffee and looked at the young man. Well, he thought, this is no namby pamby wet behind the ears youth, he looks as though he knows how to take care of himself, which is no doubt a good thing. He emptied his cup and put down his cup, hoping it would be refilled. It was.

“Look, that man is a devil.” he saw the look on Adam’s face and knew they were in agreement there, “In conversations with him we found out about his obsession with your mother. I was shown his so called treasures, the picture of her, the musical box. He also has an obsession with your family, with you in particular. The last report I received from any contacts were that he was heading to Boston. We – I – drew the conclusion that he was heading here to see Mr Stoddard about whom he spoke a great deal. I was hoping I would get here first. I practically killed a good horse to do so.”

“Do you think he’s mad? Is that why he acts in the way he does? These strange obsessions that rule his life and make it impossible for him to think rationally?”

“Yes, I do. I think something has happened that makes it impossible for him to feel any conscience about any action he takes. He can’t look at himself and recognise any fault or wrong. Did you know he killed his own brother?”

“Yes. My father buried him with a cousin he had killed earlier.”

Williams shook his head as though he knew he shouldn’t have been surprised but indeed was so. He looked at Adam,

“So he’s here? Do you expect him to – er – pay you visit?”

“He’s too unpredictable for me to say. I never saw him at my Grandfather’s funeral and have seen nothing of him since. He doesn’t usually hide himself away but rather likes to flaunt himself, as though taunting us.” he frowned then, and looked at Williams, “What do you intend to do while you are here? Wait and see if he appears so that you can arrest him?”

“In the morning I’ll go to the constabulary and alert them. They’ll give you protection by keeping a watch on the house.”

“I’ll be returning to college. There’s no reason for me to stay here longer than I have to, thank you.”

“Nevertheless, I have to notify the law about his whereabouts and hopefully he’ll be apprehended before he – well – before he does anything else.” he rose to his feet, “Good evening, Mr Cartwright. It was a pleasure meeting you although I would wish it to have been in better circumstances.”

Adam shook the proffered hand and assisted the man with his cloak. The night was dark now, the sky studded with stars and the moon hidden from view. Williams sighed heavily, looked once again at Adam and nodded,

“Be careful, sir.”

Adam nodded in his turn and watched the big man walk away into the shadows. He stood for a moment at the doorway, a black silhouette against the pale orange glow of oil lamp and fire flame in the background. No light shone from any other house. It was several hours past midnight and he wondered about calling the man back, after all, where could the man expect to get a bed now?

He stepped out onto the doorstep but Williams had disappeared into the shadows. Only the sound of his horse could be heard, an eerie clopping of hoof upon stone and cobbles.

Adam closed the door, locked and bolted it. Once again he returned to his chair before the fire and stared into the flames until his eyes closed and he slipped back into sleep.

Chapter 41

Eli Prowse stepped out from the shadows and watched as the young man stepped back into the house. He also wore a heavy travelling cloak about him and his slouch hat was pulled down low over his eyes. Among the dark shadows in which he appeared to prefer living he seemed to be just another shadow.

His eyes followed in the direction of the horseman who had already disappeared into the shades of night darkness and mist. It was no problem to just follow the slow clop clop of the weary animal, so he detached himself from his surveillance post and moved away from the house where a light behind the curtains showed that the inhabitant had remained downstairs.

Williams had already made arrangements for his stay in the town and was more than grateful to see the tavern door open to him by a weary and not too happy hostelier. He slipped him a coin and muttered that his horse needed stabling, he then went up to his room.

The hostelier grumbled about having to see to the horse as well as to the master but the coin weighed heavy and he knew where there was one coin like this one there invariably could be another. He slipped it into his pocket and left the tavern to attend to the animal.

Eli took little time to slip in through the unlatched door. He noticed the damp prints of Williams clearly exposed on the wooden stairs and followed them with a silence that was quite unnerving. He pushed open the door of the room in which Williams was already depositing his cloak and closed it gently behind him.

………….

Mrs Grimshaw rattled the poker against the ashes and prodded the recumbent logs into sparking embers. With a sigh she shook her head realising she could not rescue the fire this time and it would have to be completely raked out. She got up from her hands and knees and observed the young man who now sat at the table industriously writing a letter.

“I’ll be making some noise, Mr Adam. You won’t mind, will you?”

“No, of course not, Mrs Grimshaw.” Adam did not glance up, his pen was poised to continue his letter.

“May I ask you something, Mr Adam?”

“Certainly, what is it?” and he turned to her with the same air of reluctant patience as he would have displayed had it been Hoss or Joe who had interrupted him back at the Ponderosa.

“I hear about town that this house is for sale, ain’t that right?”

“That’s right,” Adam smiled slightly.

“Well, it’s like this, my Jessie got married recently. She’s a nice girl and her husband is a hard working young man but they have to live with us, you see? It’s such a squash and we do get in each other’s way, after all, I have four other children to look after. So -” she hauled in a deep breath, “I was wondering if it would be alright if I could buy the house. Or, if you prefer I could rent it from you.”

“Could you afford to buy the house, Mrs Grimshaw?”

“It would be easier if I were to rent it, or rather, if my son in law were to rent it from you. It would be like keeping it in the family, if you see what I mean?” she smiled at him benignly, and nodded her head.

“Yes, I suppose you could say that -” Adam replied and nodded, “Very well, Mrs Grimshaw. You can have the house. I’ll visit the lawyer and tell him, he’ll draw up the paperwork and we can get things signed and sealed today.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful, Mr Adam. My Jessie and her husband will be that pleased. Of course, they haven’t a stick of furniture between them you know.”

“The furniture can stay,” Adam turned away, and looked down at the letter he had been writing, “I’ll check over the personal effects, of course. But everything else will stay for Jessie.”

“Oh, Mr Adam, you’re so kind. Thank you so much. Does that include the curtains?” she asked tentatively.

Adam dipped the pen into the ink, and leaned both elbows on the desk in order to concentrate,

“Yes, that includes the curtains, the carpets and anything and everything else, Mrs Grimshaw.”

“Bless you, I’ll go and make some coffee for you.”

Adam heaved a sigh of relief, and recommenced his writing

“Dearest Pa, Hoss and Joe,

I am writing this letter from Grandpa’s house. It’s been such a strange time and I have so much to tell you. Grandpa died, the doctor said of a seizure but I know that Eli Prowse had been here, and I feel sure that he had something to do with Grandpa’s death. Perhaps he did have a weak heart and would have died as a result of something happening, but he was fearful of Eli Prowse and the wretched man has been here.

You should by the time you receive this letter have received the musical box and the letter explaining how I found it at Mother’s grave. Last night I received a visit from a man claiming to be the Governor of a prison in Missouri. He had something interesting to tell me about Eli which could explain why he appeared to disappear into thin air as he did.

At present my mind is -”

Mrs Grimshaw bustled in and put down the coffee. She made good coffee but always managed to slop some into the saucer which she would then pour back into the cup. Adam watched her perform this little ceremony with his mind blank, perhaps that was why he had stopped his writing. Mrs Grimshaw put down the cup and saucer,

“Oh by the way, I forgot to tell you about the man who disappeared last night… or was it early this morning? Yes, it must have been early this morning because the tavern was in a right upheaval when I passed by there on the way here. Seems they had a late visitor who has disappeared.”

“How do you mean, he disappeared?” Adam felt a foreboding trickle through him and waited with held breath to hear more.

“Well, he went to his room alright, and gave Mr Hudson a dollar for his trouble. But when Hudson called him this morning there was no sign of him. Only his cloak was folded over the back of a chair and his hat was on the dresser. Mr Hudson said his valise was still untouched, standing by the bed it was. There was no sign of a struggle so it couldn’t have been he was took off in a fight. There was just nothing.”

“Perhaps he just went for a walk.”

“No, he came late and Hudson said he was tired, been riding a long way it seemed.”

Adam nodded and put a cold hand to his brow. He knew without doubt who the visitor was and he dreaded to think, although he was sure he knew, what had happened to him.

Chapter 42

Adam looked at his letter and re-read it through before signing it. His eyes returned to one phrase that caused him to sit back in his chair to reconsider exactly what he had been thinking during his writing of it. He re – read it once again –

“I cannot help but wonder why a Governor of a prison would journey from Missouri here to see Grandfather and warn him about Eli. Surely he could have sent a letter via courier if he thought it so important. Surely he has responsibilities where he is that could not be neglected by the tediously long journey here? I keep wondering whether or not there is something of a mystery here, Pa. What do you think?”

He sighed and looked over at Mrs Grimshaw who was happily counting the plates on the dresser and rattling through the cutlery – for Jessie’s sake, of course.

“Mrs Grimshaw, I’m going to see the lawyer about renting this property to you. When I return I shall sort out my family possessions and store them in the attic. Will that be agreeable to you?”

“Very much so, Mr Adam.” she bobbed a curtsey which was quite unnecessary, but her good fortune had made her quite giddy in the head and she was, as she told her family later, all at sixes and sevens with herself.

….

The lawyer smiled and welcomed Adam into his office, and indicated the chair for him to sit upon. He opened his mouth to speak but Adam forestalled him by telling him that the house was no longer for sale.

“No longer for sale?” the mouth fell open in amazement, “But I have drawn up the deeds and such for you.”

“I am renting the property to Mrs Grimshaw’s son in law. Here are the particulars – amount of rent to be paid each month, my Bank account details, and the name of my tenant is Mr William Leask.” Adam looked up at the clock, “Shall I come back for the agreement to be signed in about an hour? I shall be returning to college tomorrow and I’d rather not have this matter hanging on too long.”

“An hour? Certainly.” he gave a wan smile and glanced down at the slip of paper handed over to him then called his clerk to whom the paper was passed onto with the order to get a rental agreement drawn up immediately.

He sat down at his desk and scowled down at the paperwork he had already worked out, then screwed it up in his hand and tossed it into the basket.

Adam meanwhile made his way to the tavern where the eyes of the curious turned to him, and some men called out their commiserations on the death of Abel and several offered to buy him a drink to ‘drown his sorrows’. He threw some coins on the counter and requested that there should be drinks for everyone on behalf of Abel Stoddard. There was a rush to the counter, his back was slapped heartily and his hand shaken warmly. Some men had tears in their eyes as they tried to reminisce fondly of old Abel but Adam merely smiled politely and slowly withdrew from their company.

With a sign from his hand Adam got the attention of Hudson, who hurried over to him for not many were so generous as to put down as much money as Adam had done. Considering his youth Hudson wondered if he actually realised just how much money he had thrown upon the counter, and was about to mention it when Adam took his arm and drew him into a private corner,

“Mr Hudson, I hear you lost one of your lodgers last night?”

“Last night? No, sir, not last night. He didn’t arrive until nigh on 2 o’clock this morning. When I called him for his breakfast the room was empty, bed unslept in and all his belongings still there in his room.”

“It was Mr Williams, wasn’t it? Mr Williams from Missouri?”

“No, no, Mr Cartwright. It was John Pickering. I got a letter from him just over a week ago asking me to reserve a room. He said that he had come to see an old friend, Abel Stoddard, your Grandfather. I remembered then that there used to be a John Pickering who sailed with your Grandfather years back.”

“But this man, John Pickering, was he not very tall and large built?”

“Aye, not much changed from when I last saw him picking a fight here in this very saloon over twenty years ago.”

“Darkly tanned, very light blue eyes?”

“The very same, sir.”

Adam loosened the cravat from his throat, he felt he was suffocating for now nothing made sense. Why would a man seek him out and pretend to be someone other than he was? To lie in such a manner meant that anything, everything, else that had been said was or could be also a lie?

“You haven’t seen him for twenty years?”

“That’s right. I threw him out and told him not to darken my doorstep again. He and that Eli Prowse -”

“Eli Prowse?” Adam exclaimed, “What do you know about him?”

“Phew, he’s a bad lot and no mistake. It was Eli Prowse caused the fight in the first place. I got him and his brother thrown out of here many a time. Seems your father, Ben Cartwright, got rid of them both in Europe about the time I last saw Pickering.” he shrugged, “Time goes by so quickly, sir.”

“Have you seen Prowse here at all?”

“No. But if he were here -” Hudson paused, “He and Pickering weren’t on good terms. He’d cut Pickerings throat as look at him, he would. Evil as they come. Mad as hatters, both of them.”

“Pickering and Prowse?”

“No, Eli and his brother, Jude. No, sir, if I’d seen Eli around here -” he shook his head and raised his eyebrows to indicate that Eli had met his match, which was hard to believe.

“Do you know what happened to Pickering? After he left here and you had him barred from the tavern, where did he go?”

“He was married, had several children. He left the sea about the same time as your father. He took his family away, out west.”

Adam nodded. He thanked Hudson, pressed some money into the man’s hands and left the building. He stood on the cobbled street for some time trying to make sense as to why a man would pretend to be someone else to a friend, make believe that he held a position of responsibility, when he was not. He put his hand to his face and passed it slowly over his features as though trying to draw back a veil that persisted in hiding the truth from him.

The clock in the town hall struck and he realised the hour was up. He had his appointment to keep at the lawyers and towards those offices he now turned his feet.

Chapter 43

A long time ago Abel Stoddard had sat on one of the bollards on the harbour front and stared out to sea. He had told his son in law that he had been listening to the sea, for when the sea called one’s name then one answered it. He had made a decision that day because he told Ben that the sea no longer called to him.

Now on that self same bollard Adam Cartwright sat and stared out to sea. Life had become a conundrum of such a peculiar shape that he didn’t really know what was happening any more. The constant feature in all of it was the presence of Eli. He sighed, rubbed his face wearily, and watched the ships that were in harbour.

“Psst!”

He looked around him, and rose to his feet. In the pocket of his long coat he had secreted the gun for he no longer felt safe without it. The harbour front appeared to be deserted so, taking a deep breath, he resumed his seat on the bollard.

“Pssst!”

He glanced down as a hand groped towards his boot with the obvious intention of tugging at the leg of his pants. He stood up once more and looked over the edge of the harbour wall.

“Mr Williams!”

“Hush!”

He said nothing, looked around him and cleared his throat,

“Well, what do you want me to do? I can’t just stand here like this all day.”

“Come down the steps. I’m in a boat.”

Adam did as he was bidden. The stone steps that had been made generations ago had been built into the stone wall and were worn, steep and slippery from the constant wear of the sea. All along the wall just above sea level were rusted rings where small boats could be tied to enable the crews of the big ships to moor up and land. Here it was that Mr Williams, minus his travelling cloak, cringed, holding tightly to the slimey rope that kept the small rowing boat close to the wall.

Adam succeeded in clambering in and was encouraged by Williams to take the oars,

“Row to that ship over there,” Williams pointed to a well appointed frigate some distance away, “Just pretend you’re alone.”

“What do we do when we get there?” Adam asked, slipping the oars free and dipping them into the water. With one oar he pushed away from the harbour wall and once free of any encumbrance that could destabilise the frail vessel he began to row, as requested, towards the ship.

“You must be wondering what’s going on?” Williams muttered from under the cover of a large canvas which had been spread out on the seat. He himself was actually seated in the belly of the boat so that he was hidden from view.

“Yes, I am. And I don’t mind telling you I feel an idiot right now. Do you mind telling me what exactly is going on? People in town think you were murdered.”

“I very nearly was and it was only by the skin of my teeth and the best of good fortune that I wasn’t.”

“I suppose you had a visit from Eli?”

“Almost as soon as I stepped into my hotel room. He must have been watching the house and followed me. I didn’t think he would recognise me.”

Adam said nothing but concentrated on his rowing. There was a stiff current eddying close to the harbour and the wind was keen and cold. He concentrated on his rowing although he was rather dismayed to see the ship didn’t appear to be getting any closer.

“You’re not the Governor of a prison in Missouri, are you?” he asked looking ahead of him as though he were the only one in the boat.

“No, I’m not. I lied. I’m sorry.”

“What was the point of lying to me? I have no more interest in Eli Prowse getting away with murder than anyone else. You lied to me then, how do I know that anything you say now can be believed?”

There was no answer except a smothered sigh from beneath the canvas.

“Look, I know you sailed with my father and Grandfather years ago. You knew Eli and Jude back then and there was bad blood between you. You’re called John Pickering -”

“Shush!”

“Mr Pickering, we’re in the -”

“I know but all the same keep your voice down.”

Adam shook h is head. He was becoming more and more convinced that everyone who had ever been in contact with Eli Prowse was mad. He continued to row however, and ground his teeth together in suppressed frustration. Pickering tugged at his pants,

“Look, I pretended to be someone I was not in order to protect Abel. It was a mistake. I just didn’t want Prowse to know I was anywhere in town or that I was going to see our old Captain. I have a friend who is the Governor of a prison and he told me that Prowse was free. He told me that Prowse intended to come to Boston to look for Abel.”

“So why your interest? Are you a lawman? A bounty hunter?”

“No,” the wretched man’s voice sounded very much like a sob, “No, I’m a father. My daughter was the girl Prowse killed. Murdered. I came here to – to get justice.”

Adam felt his throat tighten and he blinked rather more rapidly than usual. He knew his heart had began to beat more rapidly and his missed a stroke of the oar which caused the boat to rock. He cleared his throat, got a grip with the oars and began to row steadily once again,

“So what happened last night?”

“Prowse was obviously watching the house. He recognised me and followed me to the tavern. He had a knife, threatened to use if I didn’t follow him. So I did – follow him I mean. We went down a side street and I thought, well, I thought I was going to get killed there and then but thank God, a cat came bolting out of the blue, Eli missed his footing and I ran. I ran as though -” he stopped and said nothing for a while, for the closeness of his escape had come to mind so clearly that it made him feel sick, “There’s no sign of him anywhere about, is there?”

“No.” Adam replied with a sigh.

“I told you the truth last night, Prowse killed my daughter, got sent to jail and escaped. I picked up his trail, and then realised the best thing to do was get here to warn your Grandfather. I needed your support and help…”

“You only needed to tell me the truth.”

“I’ve told you the truth now.”

Adam sighed again and continued to row. The ship hove into view now and he edged nearer to it. He told Pickering and the big man nodded,

“Row to the far side so that anyone on the harbour can’t see what’s happening.”

Adam did as he was told and once out of sight of the harbour Pickering came out of his hiding place. He whistled three times very shrilly and a rope ladder clattered down towards him.

“An old friend.” he explained to Adam, “I doubled back to the harbour last night, hoping to get shelter with you but met with an old ship mate of mine. He promised to talk to his Captain and get me out of here. Thank you for your help, young man. I pray to God all goes well for you. As for Eli -” his face darkened and he nodded as though in agreement with what he was thinking, then turned to look again at Adam, “Your father would be proud of you. Take care.”

“I’m sorry about your daughter, Mr Pickering.” Adam said sincerely.

Pickering nodded, but said nothing to that, he turned and took hold of the rope ladder and hauled himself rung by rung up and out of sight of the young man.

Adam remained where he was until the rope ladder was carefully recoiled upwards and out of sight. Then he pushed himself free of the ships stern and began to row once again towards the harbour.

Part of the puzzle was in place now, but it seemed very untidily done. He’d have preferred it if Pickering had stayed and allied himself with him, so that together they could have faced Eli. But the man was obviously bent on his own private vengeance and yet fear of Eli had caused him to retreat.

Fear, as Adam well knew, was the strongest emotion known to man, and one that Eli traded upon most effectively.

Chapter 43

He secured the little boat and climbed the harbour steps. There was a great deal more activity on the street now, customers were bustling about and Abel’s store was doing a good trade. As usual now he found himself searching people’s faces as he made his way to the house. He had to admit to himself that even he felt an element of fear, an expectation of seeing Eli approaching him, or a hand clamping down on his shoulder. It took a considerable degree of self control not to be continually looking over his shoulder to see if that long lean dark shape was following him.

He returned to the house and locked the door behind him. Mrs Grimshaw had done her mornings work and would not return until late afternoon to prepare the evening meal. He put the paperwork relating to the rental of the house on the table ready for her to take home for signing.

He returned to the small table and looked down at his letter to his father. He re-read it through and then with a sigh tore it in half. There was little point in writing at this stage about all that was happening. It would be to no avail to send a letter that would cause his father worry and care for no reason. The worse that could happen would be his own death and his father would hear of it soon enough.

He sat down and wrote a warm loving letter to them. He told those he loved that Abel had died and about the bequests. He described, for Hoss and Joe, the sight of the frigate he had just rowed out to but refrained from disclosing the reason why. He was tempted to mention Eli in his letter but after some thought again decided it was pointless. His father was too far away to be of help and he felt momentarily swamped by loneliness.

He sealed the letter and slipped it into his pocket. The touch of the revolver there reassured him somewhat but only a little.

By the time Mrs Grimshaw had returned to prepare his evening meal Adam had done all that he felt necessary to the house. Private papers had been burned in the fire or stowed securely away in his valise for future more close consultation. He was surprised how little there was in the house that had been kept back by Abel relative to Elizabeth. No clothes, no perfumes, nothing of a personal nature at all. He found several copies of books, some with his mother’s writing and when he held them close to his face he could have wept at the smell of them for like a thread of gossamer the fragrant smell of her was trapped within the pages only to fade away like a breath of air upon his opening them.

All the time he worked at packing away the few things that amounted to the sum of Abel’s life, Adam was thinking of Pickering. No matter had sad the situation regarding his daughter, what was the point of lying? Why the pretence to him, a stranger? If he had come to warn Abel why disguise himself as this new personna, unknown to the old man?

“You look rather flummoxed?” Mrs Grimshaw observed as she bustled into the house, “I’ll get you something hot to eat and you’ll feel much better.”

Adam shook his head and turned away. Just now he wanted to be alone, not have a woman bustling about and chattering as she did but containing his ill humour he pointed to the papers and put down upon them the keys of all relevant cupboards and doors.

“I shall leave the spare key with Sam Dixon before I leave, you‘ll be able to collect it form him.” he told her and then looked blankly down at the black ashes in the fire that were the remnants of his Grandfather’s past.

“They think that lodger from the hostel drowned. There’s been no sign of him even though the constabulary have done a good search of the town. His horse is still in the stable eating its head off. Hudson is furious, its costing him a pretty penny stabling that animal.”

Adam looked at her and then realised that perhaps there was a solution to the matter after all. Pickerings horse, his valise – everything was still there at the hostel.

“I’m going out for a little while, Mrs Grimshaw. If I’m not back when you’ve done just leave the food ready for me.”

“But, Mr Cartwright, this will be your last meal here in your Grandfather’s house and I wanted to cook you a special something.”

“How long will it take to prepare?”

“Well, I have a few things to do beforehand so I suppose you could give me an hour and more.”

“I’ll be back before then.” he promised and his handsome face creased into a pleasant smile which dimpled his cheeks and made her fall in love with him all over again.

“My word, Mr Cartwright,” she sighed, “If I were only twenty years younger.”

Chapter 44

Hudson looked thoughtfully at the young man as he made his request and shook his head,

“I don’t rightly know, Mr Cartwright. After all, it is the man’s personal belongings.”

“Do you think he’ll come back?”

“Who’s to say?” Hudson shrugged, and looked worried.

Adam beckoned the man closer to him, and lowered his voice,

“Mr Hudson, can you keep a secret? If I give you this -” and he pressed a coin into the man’s hand, “will you swear to say nothing should enquiries be made?”

Hudson sighed and then nodded

“Go on then, Mr Cartwright. Good heavens, you’re just like your father. He had a way about him -” and he smiled in a grumpy kind of way although his eyes twinkled.

“I know where Mr Pickering is hiding. I can get his possessions to him tonight, if not tomorrow morning before I leave for college.”

“You do? You can?” Hudson exclaimed so loudly that several of his customers turned to regard the two of them with a fair degree of curiosity.

“Mr Hudson, you promised -” Adam groaned, still too young and trusting in this so called civilized world.

“I’m sorry. I’ll take you up to his room.”

The valise, cloak and hat remained where Pickering had left them. Adam picked them up and seeing Hudson still standing expectantly at the door he placed the valise on the bed.

“I’ve been thinking, Mr Hudson. Your customers may think I’m stealing these things which would not be a good idea. And it is possible that someone may see me walking home with them and wonder what I was doing with them. Perhaps if you could give me a few moments -”

“For what, Mr Cartwright?”

“For – er – just to look through the valise and see what Mr Pickering would need urgently. He doesn’t want people, any people, to know where he is and I don’t want to quite innocently lead anyone to him.”

“Ah, you mean by anyone, Eli Prowse.” Hudson’s brow crinkled.

“Exactly, Mr Hudson.” Adam smiled with relief, “You haven’t seen him, have you?”

“Who? Eli? No, and I don’t want to either.” Hudson shuddered rather theatrically and turned away, “I’ll leave you to it then.”

Adam waited until the shuffling of the mans feet had ceased upon the stairs and then he opened the valise.

He carefully deposited various items of clothing upon the bed. He found a gun belt carefully coiled around the holster and gun. There was a bible and a book of poems. There was nothing else.

Disappointed he turned to the cloak. Often times the large travelling cloak contained inner pockets and after picking it up he carefully examined it. With a lightening heart he found what he was looking for and plucked from the pocket a thick wallet, and a few letters.

The leather wallet did not contain any money which did not surprise Adam as he accepted the fact that Pickering would have kept his money close on him. If he had left money at the hostel he may have been tempted to return to collect it. He opened it and from it found several daguerreotype pictures. These were sepia coloured and fading but he could see that one was of a pretty farm house, another of Pickering and obviously his wife and two daughters, then a separate picture of each of his daughters. Adam’s eyes lingered longer upon one than the other for this must have been the girl whom Eli had killed. Although not as strikingly attractive as Elizabeth she was certainly very pretty with seemingly black hair and dark eyes. Adam could well understand that a man so obsessed as Eli could well have transferred his passions on such an innocent as this girl.

The letters were personal, one from his wife. There were several bills that may or may not have been outstanding. There was one letter that interested Adam more than the others as it was signed by an Arthur Williams, Governor of Union Jail, Independence, Missouri. This he opened and settling himself down on the bed for comfort began to read:

“Dear Pickering,

My friend, it is with deep regret that I have to tell you that the prisoner Eli Caleb Prowse escaped custody this week. Despite a prolonged search it has been impossible to locate his whereabouts.

The guards who were escorting him on the prison wagon that was taking him to his place of execution put up a valiant fight, one was killed and another seriously wounded. The wounded guard overheard Prowse talking to some other man. I much fear he had accomplices who assisted in his getaway.

We have spoken to the prisoners who shared Prowse’s cell block and have discovered that Prowse believes himself on a personal vendetta against a man called Abel Stoddard. This man was a sea captain with whom Prowse and his brother once sailed. If you know Mr Stoddard’s whereabouts it would be adviseable to warn him of this crazed man’s desire for revenge.

He has also expressed bitter hatred against you, Mr Pickering, so I would advise you to travel – if travel you choose – incognito. There is one other who I feel you should warn, and that is a young man by the name of Adam Cartwright.

One reason I would advise your travelling by another name, should you so choose to do so, is because of the love you have for your family. I am concerned because of the fact that Prowse has accomplices. Now, I am assuming that these accomplices could be his cousins, two of whom were released a few months ago from prison in Yuma territory.

Having had some contact with Prowse now for over a year I recommend you to the greatest caution.

Sincere best wishes,
Yours sincerely

Arthur Williams

Adam folded the letter and returned it to the envelope. For a moment he seemed transported back to the past as he conjured up the faces of the Jackson and Matthews brothers. In the same instant he saw the pretty face of his step mother Marie and with a shudder remembered the hours of torment she endured at their hands. Well, perhaps now he could understand why Pickering was taking so much care for his act of conscience to warn Abel had put the lives of those he most loved at risk.

Once again he felt the overwhelming weight of Eli Prowse’s shadow hovering over him as he put the wallet back into the cloak’s pocket with the letters. Once again he experienced that depth of longing for his father, and for his brothers. A longing that he no doubt shared with Pickering for his beloved ones.

“Was everything alright?” Hudson muttered as Adam came slowly downstairs, his head bowed and his face pale.

“Yes, everything’s fine. I think it would be better if you kept the belongings safe in a secure place for now.”

“He hadn’t paid me, you know.” Hudson whined.

Adam nodded, and pressed a 20 dollar coin into the man’s hand and muttered this will cover it for you as he walked away from the building and out into the fresh cold air.

As he walked home, with the darkness now total about him and the lamps barely flickering any light at all, Adam felt his nerves stretched to breaking point. He felt an intense relief when he saw the light of the house ahead which shone like a beacon out into the dark. He pushed open the door and stepped inside.

Chapter 45

“Pa?”

Ben Cartwright opened one eye and then the other, through the bleary mist of sleep and awakening he saw an anxious little face peering into his and a small hand patted him on the head just to make sure he was awake.

“What is it, Joseph? You should still be asleep.”

“I had a bad dream. Can I get into bed with you?”

Without waiting for an answer Joe slipped in between the covers and pulled them over his head. As he cuddled into his father Ben could feel how cold the boy was and put his arm protectively about him,

“Try and get to sleep now, Joe.” he whispered.

“Adam is coming home, ain’t he, Pa?”

“Of course, when he’s finished college.”

There was silence for a short while. Joe closed his eyes tightly and then shivered,

“I had a bad dream,” he whispered.

“So you said, son, but try and forget it and go to sleep.” Ben suggested, stifling a yawn.

“I can’t. I got scared.”

“It happens sometimes. Just try and sleep.”

“I dreamed that Adam was hurt and was calling for help. There were horrible big fat rats swimming in water all around him and he couldn’t get out. I was looking at him through bars, like a big cage, and I put out my hand and a rat bit me.”

Ben said nothing but held his boy closer, and gently stroked his cheek. For a few moments there was silence as he stroked Joe’s cheek and Joe clung to him,

“I was scared.” Joseph whispered, “in case it were true.”

“Hush, son, it’s alright.”

“But Adam’s so far away from here, Pa. How will we know?”

“Because he’s at college and probably the only harm that will come to him will be from boredom.” Ben smiled slowly, and wished he could believe what he had just said. It was a recurring dread that Adam would be in some danger and it would take weeks before they would ever get to know. He stroked Joe’s cheek, very gently, until the little body relaxed in his warm cocoon in Ben’s arms and in the curve of his father’s body.

It took a long time before Ben could finally fall back into sleep.

……………….

Mrs Grimshaw had provided a fine meal accompanied by some wine and excellent coffee. She thanked Adam profusely for his kindness in renting the house out to ‘her Jessie and son in law’, wept a little over the fact that she would not be helping Abel out anymore and ‘so sad that he had to die like that’ so that Adam gave her some of the wine to build up her strength.

She stepped out of the door well wrapped up against the cold night with the candle stub in her lantern lit, and promising to keep him in her prayers for ever.

Adam closed the door and locked it, bolted it, and returned to the room where he built up the fire. He turned out the lamps and blew out the candles. When he approached the window and peered through the curtain he could see only the darkness, the stars in the sky, the lights flickering here and there, and far on the water lights bobbed up and down from the ships that were in the harbour.

He let the curtain drop and asked himself if he really thought Eli was so stupid as to stand under the light of a lamp with a lantern in his hand to advertise the fact that he was there? He lit a candle once more, settled it on the table beside him, and prepared himself for some sleep. His intention was to get an early start in the morning and to return to college. Perhaps among the crowded throng of students and masters Eli Prowse would vanish … he hoped!

He checked his gun and slipped it back into its holster which was close at hand hanging from the chair back. He ensured that he would be able to reach it quickly by a few practise moves and once assured that he could, he stretched out his long legs, closed his eyes and settled down to sleep.

The clock on the mantle ticked away the minutes and the logs of the fire settled in the hearth with a crackling and popping sound. It was warm and comfortable and his stomach was full. He yawned once or twice, stretched once or twice and then suddenly he was asleep, quite sound asleep.

He jerked awake at the sound of glass breaking and reached instantly for his gun only to find the holster empty. He rose half way out of the chair but a hand reached out from behind him to cover his mouth and nose while another hand went around his chest and shoulders. Trapped by the chair between himself and his assailant Adam had no choice but to lower himself back into the chair.

“Now then, dear Adam,” Eli said softly, “isn’t it good that we have this time together?”

From behind him Adam heard someone laugh, a cold harsh laugh without mirth in it. He could remember hearing it before and he knew exactly the name to put to it … he wondered if Peter Matthews had brought his brothers along with him but then Eli put a match to the wick of a lamp, and turned up the flame.

“My word, Adam, how you have grown. I said to Peter the other day when I first saw you that I was amazed at how much you had grown. I suppose you take after your father in that way, but -” he leaned forward, screwed up his narrow slanted eyes and peered into Adam’s face “you still resemble your mother a very great deal.”

Chapter 46

Eli pulled a chair away from the table and turned it so that by straddling the seat he could fold his arms across its back, and rest his chin upon his arms. By this method he was able to look Adam in the face from the same level. Adam, restrained by Peter’s arms, struggled for a while before finally realising it made no sense to continue doing so. He looked into Eli’s eyes and it seemed to him that they were bottomless, like a pit.

“You killed my Grandfather.” he stated emphatically and with a final attempt to shrug Peter away.

“Now, that’s not nice.” Eli said silkily sarcastic.

“You were here in the house when he died, I know you were.”

“What makes you so sure of that now?”

“Because you took something from here. From my mother’s room.”

“Really? Such as?”

“The silver snuff box.”

Eli smiled coldly, then melodramatically dipped into a pocket and produced the item, holding it, as he had once before so long ago, between his thumb and forefinger.

“I noticed you took the musical box. Obviously you didn’t want to take this with it.”

“No. I wouldn’t want to touch anything at all that had belonged to you.”

Eli slipped the little snuff box back into his pocket, refolded both arms across the back of the chair and rested his chin upon his arms once more. He looked thoughtfully into Adam’s face with no emotion whatsoever. He now sighed heavily, as though everything was a nuisance and bothersome to him,

“You know, Adam Cartwright, I’ve thought a lot about you over the past four years. How’s your father and stepmother, by the way? I do so hope they are both well.”

Adam scowled, once again thrust himself impotently against Peter’s grip on him, but refrained from speaking. Eli just stared into the young face and then sighed again,

“You just don’t understand, do you? Even now, after all this time, you still don’t understand.”

“There’s nothing to understand.” Adam replied matching his tone of voice to that of his opponent, “There’s nothing about you I want to understand.”

“Really? Why not? Is it because should you do so you could start to feel some sympathy for poor Eli Prowse after all? Some do, you know.”

Adam lowered his head, he sighed and tried to think of how best to handle this situation. Peter’s hold on him was unrelenting. The man was obviously as strong as an ox and just as unthinking. Eli gave a soft whistle and from the other room Peter’s brother, David, appeared.

“Get his things, I want it to appear as though he’d left for college as everyone thinks he is, that way there’ll be no questions asked. It’s not as if he’ll be expected back at any time so no one will be curious.”

Adam raised his head and cast a dark look in Eli’s direction, the man raised his eyebrows, equivalent to a shrug for he hadn’t changed his position in any way.

“People talk. People were fond of Stoddard, they talk about you. All one has to do is stand at a street corner, or have a meal in a tavern. It’s amazing what one can learn.”

“Why did you leave my mother’s musical box on her grave?” Adam looked at him, a slight frown on his brow for it was a riddle he couldn’t fathom out for himself, Eli being so – as he was about Elizabeth.

“I wanted you to know I was back.” Eli said quietly and now he stood up, lengthened himself to his full height and nodded to Peter who hauled Adam to his feet by brute force and when he was standing he pulled Adam’s arm up behind his back so that the breath was forced out of the younger man’s lungs,

“Where are you taking me?”

“Somewhere – not back to college though, sorry about that, but -” Eli shrugged and looked over to the door where Dave had Adam’s valise, coat and hat bundled under one arm

“Everything’s ready, Eli.”

Prowse nodded and led the way out of the house. Everywhere was in shadow. The dark hulk of a carriage loomed in front and into this Adam was thrust with as little ceremony as though he were totally unimportant. He fell against the bench seat of the vehicle and knocked his head against the wooden trimming,

“Not a sound from you.” Pete Matthews hissed, and Adam felt the unmistakeable nudge of a small bore pistol thrust against his ribs.

Eli settled himself opposite Adam and wrapped his long coat about himself as though he needed the protection and warmth to ward off the cold. Dave threw in Adam’s belongings which fell with a thud at his feet.

“Put on your coat. We’ve a long journey ahead.” Eli said quietly.

Even as he spoke the vehicle jerked and rolled forwards, Adam heard the thud of horses hooves upon the cobbled street. As he struggled into an upright position on the seat he saw the lights and shadows of the town slip away and knew he would never see it again, that the flowers upon his mother’s grave would never be replaced by another, and the stone roses engraved upon the headstone would grow only greyer with time.

Chapter 47

The shutters were rolled down quickly to shut out the views from the windows but Adam had seen enough to realise they were taking the road south out of the town which would be the road leading to Boston. He looked over at Eli who was a dark lean shape huddled in the corner of the opposite seat. Peter was in the other corner, a pistol in hand resting on his knee and David Matthews was beside Adam, with a pistol aimed at him.

Adam pulled his coat on, and drew himself into the far corner, he closed his eyes and concentrated. He was no gauche college boy from the South, he was brought up in wagon trains crossing vast mountain ranges, fording rivers and learning to navigate his way through the wildest forests. So now he considered the pace of the horses, tried to recognise familiar aspects to the journey that could indicate just whereabouts journeys end would be. He hid a smile when the carriage went into a dip and a bump as it rounded a corner and decided that most definitely the journey would be ending in Boston.

No one spoke. Eli appeared to be locked into meditation of his own kind, and it was only the occasional flash of his eyes that indicated that he remained awake, and watchful of his prisoner.

Adam remained alert, concentrating as hard as he could on the journey in order to stay awake and to be focussed on any occasion that could present itself for an escape. From behind the shutters were the clear signs of a day about to begin, and he affirmed to himself yet again that everything confirmed his hypothesis of their entering Boston. The carriage was slowing, the horses steady gallop became a more gentle trot as the vehicle threaded its way through the streets of the metropolis.

“Not long now,” Eli murmured from his corner of lightening shadows, “I hope you enjoyed the journey, dear Adam.”

Adam said nothing but sat upright, looked over at the brothers and then at Eli.

“You could leave me here to find my way to college. You could save yourself more trouble.”

“It’s no trouble, believe me. I just want to make sure Elizabeth’s boy has a really good send off.”

“Send off?” Adam stiffened, and his eyes passed from Peter to David but saw from their faces that he would get no answers from them, “What do you mean? What send off?” he leaned forward a little, “Eli, if you intended to kill me, why didn’t you do so earlier. At least then I could have been buried close to my mother and Grandfather.”

“Perhaps I don’t want to kill you,” Eli sighed and he sounded weary, tired and old. He shrugged and tweaked back the shutter to look out at the streets they were driving through, and he smiled, let the shutter fall back and then turned to Adam,

“It won’t be long now.” he said with an air of finality.

“You said earlier that I didn’t understand. You’re right, I don’t understand. I don’t know after four years you decided to come back, to kill my Grandfather (to which Eli tutted in protestation and shrugged) and then to bring me here. Why couldn’t you just get on with your life?”

“Oh, but I did. You see -” Eli spread out his arms in a gesture of an embrace “I did. I met a very sweet girl -”

“You killed her.”

“As I was saying, I met a very sweet girl. I gave her the musical box as a gift but she didn’t really deserve it. I – well – things don’t always go to plan, do they? You should know, after all you interfered last time. But I built my empire. Not like your fathers, I admit that, but an empire all the same. I had to spend a time in prison, thankfully brought short by my cousins here who came to help me get out. Now I’m returning to my life. To pick up from where I left off.”

“But -”

“Then I got to thinking about you, your parents – I mean – your father and stepmother – and your grandfather. Now, I believe men of honour should repay their debts. Your Grandfather owed me a life.” he shrugged, “Then there’s you to consider too. Well, you’ll see what my plans are for you. Later I shall revisit the Ponderosa and see how the grieving father is handling matters. After all, I owe Ben so much -” and he caressed the scar on his face with a long finger.

Once again he tweaked aside the shutter and peered through the gap, and the smile widened although his eyes remained soulless. He looked at Adam,

“Well, now – here we are, we’ve arrived.”

Chapter 47

“Pa … Pa…”

Ben Cartwright hurried to his feet at the sound of alarm from his youngest who came hurtling down the stairs with one fist clenched tightly in front of him. Close behind Little Joe came his brother, Hoss, and the broad grin on his face quelled the anxiety that had welled up in Ben’s heart at the racket Joe was making,

“What’s wrong? What’s going on?” Ben said, smiling himself now because that was how it was with Hoss, when he smiled and his blue eyes twinkled, it just made a man want to laugh and feel good inside.

“My tooth … it came out.” Joe cried and flourished the tooth with great glee under his parents nose.

Ben picked it up and examined it closely, then gave his son a very stern look indeed,
“This is really one of your very own teeth, Joseph?”

“It is, Pa, look, lo ughgh ok” and the child opened his mouth wide and stretched out his lips with the assistance of his fingers so that his father could peer inside and look at the crater left behind in his gum.

Ben looked very sternly at the neat little cavity and frowned, then he inspected the tooth again,

“Well, I don’t know…” he said very slowly, “When did this incident actually take place?”

“Just now, upstairs.” Joe pointed upwards.

“It did too, Pa.” Hoss chuckled, knowing that Ben was making a ‘pretence’ of disbelieving Joe and enjoying every minute of it, “We were having a game upstairs and it just fell out – plop – just like that -” and he opened his mouth and made a plopping noise.

“Plop, huh?” Ben shook his head, “I never heard a tooth come out of any mouth with a plop before.”

“It’s because I was doing this -” and Joe put one finger inside his mouth and hooked it around his cheek and then pulled it away with a good plopping sound “and that was when my tooth came out.”

“Mmmm,” Ben looked at the tooth and then beckoned Joe closer, “Open your mouth again?”

The little boy opened his mouth all the time with his eyes twinkling for he loved the way his Pa teased him like this, he just loved his Pa and that was a fact. Even now with his mouth wide open and Ben pinching his chin he wanted to throw his arms around his Pa’s neck and give him a big hug.

“Mmm, well, well.” Ben said and he straightened up and put his hand in his pocket, “Mmmm,” he said again and put his hand in his other pocket, “Ah ha,”

“Ah-ha!” Exclaimed Hoss with a clap of his hands and Joseph laughed and capered about as though he were riding his hobby horse around the room.

“Here we are,” Ben laughed and produced a whole dollar coin which he gave to Joe who held onto it very tightly before his father picked him up and hauled him into the air.

Hoss ran his tongue around his teeth and sighed. It had been his misfortune to have lost his teeth when his Pa could only give him the odd nickel and dime. Adam had come out the worse as he never got anything.

Hop Sing placed a heavy platter of bread in to the centre of the table and observed the three Cartwrights with a feeling of peace stealing over his heart. He announced that breakfast was ready which was greeted with a cheer from Hoss who ran over to the table only too happy that he had all his teeth to sink into the meal Hop Sing had prepared. Ben walked over with Joe still in his arms, still just small enough to do so, and not old enough to mind too much.

“Hop Sing, I lost a tooth – look.” and Joe opened his mouth wide to display the gap so evident in the string of little pearls that had been the pride of his mother’s heart.

“Boy grow up fast. Soon be old and glad have one tooth left in head.” observed the philosophical cook before returning to his kitchen.

………………

“Wait!”

Eli Prowse’s one word made each one of them freeze, and Adam felt a frisson of fear run through him as the man reached for his pocket. Once again it crossed Adam’s mind that he should do something, that he should fight to save his own life, but logic told him that he would not save his life, but could very well end it. Whereas if he waited a while he would get the opportunity, perhaps.

Eli produced a black silk scarf and this he tied securely around Adam’s eyes. He then pushed open the door and indicated that David went first .

Adam felt hands grip his arms and he was pushed forward. The long step down from the carriage caused him to stumble slightly but Peter’s fingers held him steady and dragged him back to his feet. He was then pushed and pulled along, stumbling against unknown steps and unseen obstacles. He could smell the sea, that salt and brine smell so beloved by seamen everywhere. He could smell – he tried to slow his walk so that he could inhale the odours about him – he smell rotting wood, something like spices, other things that were unclean and unpleasant.

‘Well,’ he thought to himself ‘they’ve not dropped me off at college.’

He heard Eli’s firm steps ahead of him, and knew from the tread that they were about to go up some steps or stairs, and prepared himself to be manoeuvred up them to wherever Eli had gone for the sound of a door creaking on its hinges now came to his ears. He was pushed along, managed the stairs successfully, tripped over a step on the threshold of the door.

Momentarily Pete’s grip loosened and Adam hauled himself away from him, reached for the blindfold and pulled it free before he turned, fists clenched to swing out blindly against the first person he could reach. His wrist was seized so fiercely that he gasped, and his arm wrenched back and forced up behind his back.

“Don’t try it again,” Eli hissed.

The blindfold was not replaced, and now Adam could see that he was standing on a landing above some stairs leading to a glass paned door. Directly ahead of the door through which he had come were railings and looking beyond them was nothing. Glancing down as he was shoved away from the stairs in the opposite direction and along a corridor along which the railings ran the whole length, he could see that the space provided the ceiling of the rooms below, and in various parts of this flat roof was stacked shipping apparatus and various barrels, wooden boxes, planks, coils of rope and metal rods.

He decided he was in some kind of ware house which indicated that, due to its proximity to the sea, meant he was on a wharf which would be surrounded by other such buildings, all damp and decaying, all anonymous and foreboding.

Another door just ahead of them and this was pushed open by Eli who stepped inside and was followed by his cousins and Adam.

Eli discarded the long coat and cast aside his slouch hat. He pulled up a leather padded captains chair to a rather expensive mahogany desk. He looked up at Adam who was pushed forward and forced to sit in a chair facing Eli.

The room was light and for the first time Adam could see that the past four years had not been kind to Eli Prowse. His hair was scant where it came to covering his skull but he still wore it long enough to drift over his collar. The dead eyes were sunken into the skull and the skin stretched tauter. The unhealthy yellow tinge to his skin was more prominent and deep furrows lined the long face from nose to mouth to jaw, and around the dead eyes were the deep cobwebs of time.

“I’ve decided on your future, Adam.” Eli said and leaned back into the chair and smile, “I know you like the sea, being the son and grandson of seamen.” he pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows, “Of course, it will mean an interruption to your education. That in itself isn’t really important because it wouldn’t be of any help to you anyway.”

Adam said nothing. His eyes had noticed that the office was richly adorned, there was evidence of gold ornaments, expensive pictures on the walls, thick carpets on the floors. Eli waited and realising the boy was not going to speak he shrugged,

“You can see that I’m not a poor man as you may have first thought. Let me tell you a little about myself.”

“I’m not interested.” Adam said and he shrugged as though to emphasise the degree of his disinterestedness.

“No, but I’ll tell you anyway. It won’t take long. I recall telling you how your father left Jude and I stranded in La Rochelle, and how we worked our way through Europe. We became wealthy enough to buy land and for a few years we lived out there, where the land was we had bought. Rich land it is, and we grow stuff there. The problem is that the land needs caring for, you know, digging and trenching, planting and hoeing, all that kind of mundane kind of work. So we get people to do our work for us. Have you ever heard of Jamaica?”

“Jamaica?” Adam repeated the word like some child in a geography class, “Yes, I’ve heard of it.”

“Some of the people we send off to the plantations there, well, they die. Some don’t make the trip over, all expenses paid too. Some can’t take the heat and the sickness, and the work isn’t quite what they’re used to either. We always seem to be having to replace people with -er – other people. You do understand what I mean, don’t you?”

Adam blinked, he thought he understood but didn’t want to admit to it. He looked over at Pete and Dave, both of whom stood with slight smiles on their faces, their hands still holding the guns. Adam swallowed, cleared his throat,

“Perhaps if you spelled it out more clearly,” David said eventually, “He doesn’t seem to understand what you mean.”

Eli tapped his fingers on the desk and frowned,
“I don’t want to kill you, by that I mean, I don’t want to be the one who puts a bullet in you or anything else for that matter. You’re Elizabeth’s son.” he paused, stared at the pale, resolute face before him, “You could have been my son.” he said very softly.

“Thank God I’m not,” Adam retorted immediately, his dark eyes widening in horror at the thought and he stood up, clenched his fists, “I would rather die than even think that I was anything to do with you.”

“Oh sit down, sit down and shut up. All this jumping up and down -” Eli shook his head and put a hand to his head, “Slavery isn’t just confined to this land, you know, dear Adam. Despite all the wailings from these so called reformers, slavery is still a very necessary evil. Not that I consider it such, it’s a very lucrative business in fact, and it gets work done efficiently and cheaply. Now, a trip down to the Caribbean Sea on a fine frigate … doesn’t that sound appealing? That way I need only hear of your death the same way as your father will do …”

“You’re – you’re going to sell ME? As a slave?” Adam stood up again, his face drained of any colour and totally expressionless, “Are you out of your mind?”

Eli slouched back in his chair, raised his eye brows, shook his head.

“No. But I’m not selling you I’m just – well – keeping you as my own property. If you live or if you die in Jamaica, is entirely up to you. Your death won’t be laid at my door.”

“NO!” Adam stepped forward, “No, you must be -”

It might as well have been the ceiling falling down upon him for there was a flash of light, a whirling sensation, then darkness.

Eli opened a casket which was on the desk and took out a cigar, he lit it slowly, and then looked over at his cousins.

“Take him downstairs.” then he leaned back, stretched out his legs, and closed his eyes. Even as he did so he felt within his vest pocket and took from there a curl of black hair fastened by a slip of blue ribbon.
Chapter 48

Adam remained prone upon the ground even though he had now regained consciousness. His whole body felt so heavy, so lethargic that he found himself wanting to stay just where he was, just there, sprawled out on the floor with his cheek resting upon something soft and warm and his eyes closed. He couldn’t open his eyes they were so heavy and languid.

He could hear movement all around him. Quiet sounds. There was a very heavy pungent smell that seemed to permeate the very pores of his skin making his head even more light headed than he would have expected from a single blow but then he didn’t really want to think about it. He heaved a sigh and didn’t know whether it was of contentment or weariness.

He heard the flutter of something passing him by, the soft shuffle of slippered feet, the gentle rustle of silk. Now he heard the sounds of soft moaning and groans and for a moment he wondered whether they were coming from him. He raised his head and opened his eyes slowly, slowly because they seemed to be so heavy almost as though they were glued together.

The sight he saw was something he had never seen before but had heard about and been warned to avoid. Ben had told him of such places as this. Where the scum of the earth are, that’s where you’ll find them making a living out the pathetic who have given up on themselves.

He swallowed back vomit and found himself gasping for breath. So this was what was the cause of that heavy sweet smell. The softness beneath his cheek was a silk bolster cast down upon a colourful ke’lim, and everywhere he looked other bodies were reclining upon such soft furnishings just as sumptuous. Silk was draped from the ceiling in many different shades of pink, orange and red. Ke’lims were sprawled all over the floor one on top of the other to soften and make more comfortable the divans upon which these bodies reclined. Several men and women, dressed in silk oriental costume, passed up and down between those reclining on the divans and lighting little fires, or pouring water into small dishes.

So his brain said in the detached corner of his mind that seemed to be the only part still functioning, this is an opium den. This is what Pa detested and this was what Eli’s world consisted of . He raised himself up upon his elbows and looked around him with wide startled eyes. Several men reclining close to him turned to look at him with blank faces and dull eyes. They smiled vacantly, one attempted to speak, but they then rolled back to their pipes.

A hand touched his arm and he turned to look up into the pleasant face of a young woman, Chinese, and very pretty. She smiled and opened her other hand so that he could see the contents that lay within

“You want?”

“No.” he pushed her away, his head was feeling as though it was floating but he shook the feeling away impatiently, angrily. “Look, I want to get out of here. How do I get out?”

She smiled and shook her head. Once again she raised her hand in offering but he pushed her hand away and struggled to his feet.

“Where is the door? The door?” he cried, and he grabbed her by the arms and gave her a slight shake, “I have to get out.”

A hand grabbed his arm, thin fingers circled the flesh and tightened their hold, and forced him to turn round.

“I thought I would make it easier for you.” Eli said in the soft silken voice that held more menace in every word than had he yelled them out. “Drink sometimes helps but I thought this would be more pleasant.”

He smiled, and gestured towards the recumbent bodies half hidden by the haze of the smoke that hung so thickly in the room that it was like a cloud hovering above them,

“Welcome to my world, Adam. This is what has made me rich.”

“You must be the most miserable wretch in this miserable world,” Adam said very quietly, but his eyes were as cold and hard as Eli’s as he stared into the man’s face, “I hated you earlier on, but now -”

“Now you loathe me, is that it? Do you think I really care? I have enough money now to ruin your father, do you realise that? I could match him dollar for dollar. I may now own the Ponderosa but who cares for a wilderness, for a primitive life style, stinking Indians and isolation when they can have -”

“This?” Adam gestured towards the pathetic sight that seemed to have brought Eli so much pleasure, “This? This isn’t living; this isn’t worth having; I’d rather face a war party of Cheyenne than have anything to do with this. I pity you for even thinking that you’ve achieved anything in your life if you can point to this as anything worth boasting about. You must have the emptiest of lives -”

Eli listened as though somewhat amused, somewhat angered, before he shook his head and pushed Adam away from him so that the young man stumbled backwards and into the arms of David Matthews, who seized him by the arms,

“Come,” he said and turned to lead the way out of the room which was, to Adam’s mind, hell on earth.

The heavy door swung shut, sealing in the smells, sights and sounds of what happened in the room beyond it. Adam found himself now at the foot of the stairs that led to the entrance of the building, he glanced upwards, and then at Eli

“Where now? I thought you were going to send me on a trip to Jamaica.” the sarcasm in his voice made Eli narrow his eyes, but then the man shrugged,

“That’s right, that’s where you’re going. I just wanted to make it more comfortable for you, leaving here in a cloud of oblivion isn’t such a bad thing, you know? Some – let’s call them unfortunates just for arguments sake – just get a knock on the head and wake up in the hold of the ship; others get drunk and pass out and sober up quickly enough when they realise where they are; you obviously prefer it the hard way. So be it.”

Adam was pushed forwards by Matthews, his foot was on the second stair when he turned and threw himself against the man, sending him reeling down back to where Eli was standing. There was a choice of two things now – use his long legs to get up the stairs and hopefully through the door at the top or use his fists to make sure Matthews didn’t get up.

Eli’s arm stretched out to grab at Adam but the young man realised he had no other option now than to use his legs and head for the exterior door. He sprung forward, stair after stair, his heart was thudding not so much with the exertion but with the fear that Eli or David had the power to stop him. He reached the top, stumbled, regained his footing. He could hear the thud of footsteps behind him and knew David was very close, when he looked along the corridor he could see Peter running along the corridor from the office. The gap was narrowing. His hand touched the door and pushed against it.

“Stop or I fire -”

He didn’t know who had shouted out the command or if they even meant it. He assumed that they did but struggled to get the handle turned. Then a shot was fired, and another.

Chapter 49

The door swung open just as David had succeeded in grabbing hold of Adam’s leg. Now desperation ended logic as far as Adam was concerned. His propelling thought was to get out, as far away from Eli Prowse and his cohorts as he possibly could. He turned and swung his free foot as hard as he possibly could into David’s face. The blow caught David beneath the jaw and as he fell backwards down the stairs so two shots were fired.

Eli advanced up the stairs with the gun levelled and ready to fire again. His nostrils flared and there were red blotches on his skin as though anger and hate had to be physically manifested. Adam saw Peter drawing closer a gun in his hand which was now levelled towards him but before a bullet could be fired Adam had got through the door.

The cold air was refreshing after the confinement in the den, but nevertheless Adam found himself swaying giddily as he stumbled down the wooden steps to the wharf side. He heard what seemed like a myriad hob nailed boots thudding across the wooden planks but he didn’t dare look back. To look back was to lose time and he needed as much time as he possibly could get to escape.

Something warm and wet was trickling down his face from his hairline, and he brushed it aside before it went into his eyes and impeded him further. He turned blindly left and then right before deciding to run towards the lights of the town.

“Over here, here.” cried a familiar voice but he paid no heed for his mind felt so confused and bewildered that his only thought was that of flight.

He began to run only to be stopped by two men who loomed out of the shadows and grabbed hold of him. His first reaction was to thrash out with clenched fists which, to his satisfaction, collided with someone. He struggled to free himself and was about to throw another punch when he recognised John Pickering standing as large as life in front of him. There was a concerned look on the man’s face but it faded when he realised that Adam had recognised him,

“Stay here, lad. You’re quite safe now.” Pickering said quietly, and placed a firm hand on Adam’s arm.

“But Eli -”

“No need to concern yourself about him. He’s being dealt with by some friends of mine.”

“Who?”

“Shush now – wait and see.”

From the ware house there were some moments of bedlam – shots fired, shrieks and screams no doubt from the occupants of the opium den, curses and shouts. Suddenly there was the sight of flames blazing out from an upstairs window, more shots, and people streaming out of the building, using every possible exit they could find in a bid to escape.

Men appeared from the shadows and converged upon the building. Like so many sheep dogs they rounded up those that were attempting to flee and herded them into a group on the wharf side. Torches were held high, flaring brightly as the wind caught at the flames, illuminating the many faces that all bore the look of confused terror as they looked around them at their captors.

Adam watched within the shadows created by the stairs upon which he had so recently fled. His heart was thumping with so many emotions that he could barely contain himself. He held a handkerchief to the head wound to stem the flow of blood and realised just how fortunate he had been to have escaped the maelstrom that had now befallen these hapless people.

It was twenty minutes of organised chaos but eventually there was no more shooting, and Pickering’s men were emerging from the building dragging with them those who had cowered behind.

“You know, it’s a sad thing to see -” Pickering whispered to Adam, “but some of those folk there are some of Boston’s most important people. It’s a sad thing -” he repeated and with a sigh he stepped out from the shadows with Adam walking close by his side.

“Mr Pickering, just who are you? What’s going on here?”

“I told you who I was, lad. I’m a father of a young girl that Eli Prowse murdered. I swore I’d get him one day. There’s an Italian proverb that says ‘revenge is a dish best served cold’ well, this is my day of vengeance.”

“How did you know Eli was here?”

“Once I was on board the frigate I kept my telescope steady on Abel’s house. I saw them come for you and take you away. It wasn’t difficult to follow them once I knew they were on the Boston road. I couldn’t stay in the town there were too many people who knew me and talked too much. It’s all worked out very well.”

“And these men – are they the law?”

“Are they the law?” Pickering repeated softly, and he raised his eyebrows, “Yes, they are representatives of the law here.”

“So Eli will be arrested and put back in prison?”

“If he’s still alive.”

Adam shivered. He looked at the faces of the people huddled and confused on the wharf side, all of them cold, all of them frightened. One man was protesting volubly and Pickering sighed,

“He’s a leading Councillor, frightened that he’ll lose his reputation and his position in town. He’s right to be frightened too, the law here is pretty tight on this kind of thing and have been waiting for information on how to crack down on this place … not that they knew it existed. See over there -” he pointed to a handsome young man who was trying to keep well hidden in the shadows, “he’s the son of one of Boston’s leading families, very rich. He’d be one who would have made sure no one found this place.”

“Have they got Eli?” Adam asked now, and Pickering said nothing to that but walked up to one of the Constables and spoke to him.

He returned to where Adam was standing and upon his face was a dark scowl,

“The wretch gave them the slip. He’s still somewhere around here.”

“Then give me a gun, I’ll find him.”

Pickering frowned, although he passed a gun over it was with some reluctance,

“I don’t think you’ll ever find him now, these buildings are like a rabbit warren.”

“I won’t have to look for him, Mr Pickering, he’ll find me.” Adam replied with such cold certainty that Pickering felt a shudder run down his back.

Chapter 50

The warehouse was burning fiercely now as the cold winter wind blew upon it like a giant bellows, fanning the flames to greater and greater fury. There came the sound of the fire service wagons, their horses pounding over towards the fire in a bid to contain it and protect the other properties adjacent to it.

Adam felt sure that Eli was not in the burning building. There was an animal instinct about the man to survive and he would have used his cunning to have got away as soon as he realised what was about to happen. Very slowly Adam inched his way to the side of the building, where the windows of what he was sure had been Eli’s office stood proudly overhanging the jetty. Smoke was billowing out from the broken glass in the windows and from a door that Adam had not noticed before but would have been a back entrance or exit to the office. The door was swinging back and forth, caught by the wind, and thudding against the wall of the building and back again.

A metal staircase led from the door to the jetty, and Adam, keeping close to the shadows created by the walls of the building moved slowly to where the stairs ended.
Peter Matthews’ body was sprawled on the planks, and Adam approached him with some caution. The man was still alive but groaning piteously. When he saw Adam he cringed back in horror, anticipating his death and like all cowards who enjoy hurting others was terrified when it appeared they were about to receive the medicine back.

“Don’t shoot -” he cried, “I – I only did it because Eli forced me too.”

Adam said nothing to that, but looked at the wretched man with something akin to disgust on his face which caused Peter to plead even more anxiously,

“Family – we were family – had to stick together.”

“Where’s Eli now? Have you seen him?” Peter Matthews went grey and shook his head “Have you seen him?” Adam repeated, this time on bended knee beside the man and the barrel of the gun pressed against his head.

“He went towards the town. That way -” he jerked his thumb towards where the lights of the town shone, “Not long ago.”

“How long ago?”

“Ten minutes at most.”

Adam nodded, and rose to his feet. He left Peter quivering with pain and fear while he began to run. He noticed as he was running that every so often there was a splash of blood on the ground and heartened by this sight he exerted himself to longer strides in order to hunt down his quarry sooner. He thought of Pickering talking about revenge and the only proverb that sprung to his mind was that if you eat with the devil, you need a long spoon.

Eli Prowse held a wad of cloth against his wound. Perspiration was falling down his face and dripping from his chin onto his clothes. His breathing was ragged and in despair he cast himself into some tall grasses that grew alongside the roadway. He had been caught by surprise when Pickering’s men had streamed into the building but had had the presence of mind to reach his study and take out the necessary papers and some money. He gripped hold of the leather case and hugged it against him as he remembered the frantic moments of the fight in the warehouse.

Everything gone. Just like that! Everything he had achieved and worked for destroyed. His ’customers’ pulled out of the building, the expensive furniture and draperies all burned up. There was the opium stored away and now destroyed. There was other substances and assets that would now be destroyed, if not by the fire, then by the men who would come and ransack through the place.

He shivered now. He hadn’t realised just how cold he felt and remembered that he had left his long coat in the office. He had been wounded of course, a bullet in his side. He held the case closer. When he got into town he knew a man who would be only too happy to assist him, and by morning he would be on a boat heading for Jamaica. Then one day, in his own time, he would return.

He closed his eyes. His flesh was damp with sweat and he was shivering violently. He resolved that he was not going to die. There was too much unfinished business to attend to, too much to do. He was still rich and he could become richer still in the years ahead.

He paused in his thoughts as he heard footsteps approaching him. He could tell from the rise and fall of them that they were of a running man. Someone light on their feet. Not a heavy weight like Pickering and the thought crossed his mind, ’curse that cat’ for had it not been for the animal Pickering would be dead.

Someone light on their feet and he could think of only one person that it could be. He rolled onto his belly and peered through the grass. He brushed the sweat from his brow, and wondered why he should feel so cold when he could perspire so much. The pain in his side was making it difficult to breathe with out forcing him to groan and he despised himself for this weakness. He had always thought himself invincible, and any pain could be endured in stoic silence. He was realising, sadly too late, that the body has it’s own way of betraying the mind.

He crawled closer to the road and waited as the footsteps drew closer. There was no running now, only the sound of someone cautiously putting one foot before the other. Eli cursed once more. Adam Cartwright was a youth who had grown up learning how to follow the spoor of any animal and that included the two footed species called homo sapiens. Had it been any other clod hopping idiot, Eli seethed, perhaps his tracks would not have been so easy to follow and his escape would have been assured. He groaned again and put his hand to the wadding at his side. When he withdrew his hand he was startled to see the blood upon it and then he understood that his life force was slowly flowing away.

Chapter 51

It was not difficult to see where Eli Prowse had left the road and Adam had no doubt that the wound the man bore was a severe one for the blood splashes on the road were significantly larger and closer together than formerly. He went on one knee to examine exactly where Eli had gone into the verges and very carefully took off the safety catch from the pistol.

From his vantage point in the grass Eli watched what Adam was doing with the usual cold detachment in which he viewed anything other than his own actions. He saw the young man’s face set into a serious mien, the dark eyes glancing back and forth while nimble fingers dealt with the pistol. He pursed his lips, frowned and with a sigh parted the grass,

“Adam – I’m here.”

“I know it.” Adam replied, “Are you badly hurt?” he remained on one knee, crouched low with his eyes searching for somewhere to disappear into, although the probability of being able to do that without Eli seeing him was nil.

“Mortally I think.”

“I can take you to a Doctor in town or get one to attend to you.”

“You won’t have time,” Eli said matter of factly, his voice weaker than he had realised and he bowed his head into his arms as a wave of faintness swept over him.

When he looked up again Adam was walking towards him. Although his approach was cautious he was at the same time fully exposed. Perhaps, Eli surmised, he thought him dead already. He watched the young man approach and while Adam walked cautiously towards him Eli took a pistol, an English made snub nosed single barrel pistol that fitted neatly in the top pocket of his jacket. He shook his head for clearer vision, aimed and fired.

Certainly the target was large enough but perhaps the angle at which Eli fired the gun, or the wind which was still strong may have deflected the bullet, for Adam did not fall down dead as Eli had anticipated but reeled back with a look of surprise on his face, then clapped his left hand to his arm. His pistol dropped from his hand onto the ground as his fingers became numb from the impact of the wound. He had staggered back a pace or two, but then mustered his energies and picked up the pistol which he transferred to his left hand. He now recommenced his walk, ,at a steady pace, towards Eli.

Eli found that he had not the strength now to move; he was unable to crawl away, or crawl forward or even push himself into a sitting position. He had to remain in the ignominious position of being on his stomach, in the tall grasses. When he heard the rustle of grass nearby he was too weak even to move his head to see who or what was approaching him.

“Adam?”

“Yes,”

“Have you come to gloat now that I am dying?”

Adam was near him now, near enough to squat down on his haunches by his side. Eli could hear the click as he put back the safety catch on his pistol, and he smiled grimly,

“Decided you don’t need it after all, is that it?”

“Yes.” Adam looked at the greying face, with its familiar tinge of yellow. Eli was not going to be beautified by death and that was a fact. The glistening reptilian eyes fixed themselves upon Adam’s face as very gently Adam turned Eli onto his back, his head cushioned by the grasses. Eli could feel gentle hands peeling away his blood sodden clothes, lift the wadding and he heard the sigh, but still he didn’t take his eyes from Adam’s face. “You’re right, Eli, the wound is a mortal one.” and he covered it over again.

“So I am dying after all. But then, I started dying the day I fell in love with Elizabeth. It was against my nature to love anyone, so against my nature…” his voice slurred a little, and he grimaced, “I tried to kill you just now.”

“That’s in your nature,” Adam replied in a matter of fact clipped tone of voice.

“I should never have fallen in love with Elizabeth Stoddard, you know.” Eli shivered, and his fingers clawed at the grass upon which he lay, he refused to groan and grunt with pain in front of this young man, Elizabeth’s son. “They say love and hate are the twin emotions of the heart and I felt them both, passionately. I wanted you dead more than anything in the world -”

His voice was drowned by the rise of blood in his throat, it frothed at his mouth, the light went from his eyes and with a shudder Eli Caleb Prowse died.

Chapter 52

“Cartwright?”

Adam Cartwright turn stopped in his tracks and turned to face Dr Liam Hislop. There was always something in the History lecturers tone of voice that made Adam feel like a little boy about to be told off for running in the college corridor.

“Yes, Sir?”

Hislop surveyed the young man thoughtfully, and adjusted his pince nez more firmly upon the beak of his nose,
“You’ve been in the wars, I hear?”

“A bit,” Adam replied dryly, and wondered what Hislop thought of his rather battered appearance now. Bruises on his cheekbone, a large graze on his jaw line, his head swathed with bandages where he had sustained some head injury and his arm in a sling. The injury that he had sustained four years earlier to his back had proven a problem and re-inflamed the muscles so that there was a return of a limp. It seemed that there was always going to be a reminder of Eli somewhere or another in his life.

“And your grand father died, I understand?”

“Yes, Sir, he did.”

Hislop observed the young man again. Despite the rather bizarre background of this particular student, Hislop had a lot of respect for his intellect. It was the Doctor’s hope that he would see Adam Cartwright leave the college with all his degrees plus honours, and that he would go on to lead an accomplished career in Engineering. It was Hislop’s opinion that Adam Cartwright would develop into a man who would excel at anything he set his hand onto … he just hoped it would not be roping cattle and cutting down timber in that wilderness he called the Ponderosa.

“I’m very sorry to hear it. It’s been a hard time for you, Mr Cartwright.”

“Yes -” Adam cleared his throat and turned slightly as a hint to the Doctor that he would now like this conversation to end.

“I can see you won’t be able to use your writing hand for a while, so no point in asking you to complete the essay about the siege of Troy. Perhaps you could review it though and give a verbal discourse on Monday.”

Adam nodded politely and again made an attempt to leave, Hislop waved a hand towards Adam’s rooms,

“Oh and by the way, you have a visitor waiting for you.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Adam nodded again and sighed with relief as he was now free to go. A visitor! Who could that be? His heart jumped into his mouth, perhaps, just perhaps, it was Pa. After all, it could be, couldn’t it?

He pushed open the door to his rooms and glanced excitedly around the room to discover that his visitor was none other than John Pickering.
“Oh, Mr Pickering?”

John stood up, he saw from the look of disappointment on the young man’s face that he was obviously not the visitor that Adam was expecting and wondered if he had a secret lady love whom he had anticipated seeing here. He extended his hand and had it firmly shaken by Adam before they both took their seats opposite one another,

“So, how do you feel?”

“A little battered and bruised,” Adam smiled slowly, “But other than that, thank you, I’m alright.”

“With your life style I daresay you’re used to having bullets flying at you, huh?” Pickering grinned, “Got this lot here a bit worried, I can tell you. They’re used to fine young gentlemen who have had a more sheltered life than your own. Guns have a more sober role in life here.”

Adam nodded, and looked thoughtfully at John,

“Did you come for anything important, Mr Pickering?” he asked politely, for he bore in mind that Eli’s death and the discovery of the opium den, which was probably one among a goodly number in the city, had been some days previous now.

“I came only to bid you farewell. I’m going back to collect my wife and daughter and bring them home. I’ve wondered for some time why I had felt so restless, and it wasn’t just because of my daughter’s death, but because – as I discovered when I was back there that I missed my home town. I missed being by the sea, and the houses huddled around the harbour. So – “ he stood up now, “I just wanted to thank you for your help in this matter, young man. You conducted yourself every bit as I would have thought a son of Ben Cartwright’s would act… with honour and courage.”

“I appreciate it, sir. Thank you.”

“Will you ever go back there?” Pickering asked as he picked up his hat and turned to leave the room,

Adam thought for a moment and then shook his head. There was nothing to go back for, nothing living, no one loving or to be loved,

“No, Mr Pickering, I won’t be going back.” he said very quietly as he rose to his feet.

“I understand.” Pickering twisted his hat round and round in his hands, “I’ll put flowers on your mother’s grave for you, every year.”

“Will you, Sir?” Adam dark eyes kindled like amber and he felt a warm blush to his cheek rise there from pleasure, “Thank you, Mr Pickering. On the 3rd February, if you wouldn’t mind. Then I can think of you putting them there for her …” his voice trailed away and in his minds eye he saw again the stone roses on the gravestone, the musical box at its feet, the grass trembling in the breeze as snow fell gently downwards.

……………..

“Ben – good to see you again.”

Will Cass opened the door to his store, a rather flimsy affair at that time, but he always assured his customers that he would still be there in twenty, thirty years time and when he had the time and opportunity he would be building a proper store. As it was the place bulged with all the necessities that such a place as Eagle station would need.

“Good to see you too, Will. How’s Mrs Cass and the children?”

“Very well, very well indeed. Good morning, Hoss, Little Joe.”

The boys followed their father closely, weaving their way in and out of barrels of molasses, bales of material, stacks of tins and baskets and boxes. It was to Little Joe’s way of thinking a veritable Aladdin’s cave of exciting discovery.

“Keep close to me, boys.” Ben warned as he noticed Joe’s hand sneaking towards a pile of packages, “I’ve come to get some groceries, Will. Here’s my list.” he put the paper down and frowned, Hop Sing’s requirements were often obscure and there was never any guarantee that they would be available.

“I’ll get this sorted for you right away, Ben. Oh – did you know that we have a mail depot now? “

“We have?” Ben grinned, “When did that happen?”

“Just six weeks ago. It got all fixed up with San Francisco and there’s going to be mail delivered here every week.” Will Cass was so red in the face with delight that Hoss stepped back in some alarm in case the man either burst into flames or keeled over from lack of air.

“Seems we’re getting noticed, and not just by the whole world coming here prospecting either,” Ben grabbed Joe by the scruff of the neck as the boy was about to disappear around some corner and out of his sight. It never paid to let Little Joe get out of sight.

“Another thing, Ben, they want you to supply the wood for a school house.”

“A school house?” Ben glanced at Hoss and Joe who stopped wriggling and looked up in alarm.

“It seems that there’s a school teacher moved here already. He was prospecting but then noticed how many children there were here and applied to be teacher. He’s been accepted and now he’s wanting a proper school house built.”

Ben nodded and looked once again at his two sons, both of whom seemed to have realised by some uncanny instinct that this was not good news where they were concerned.

“And what about the mail depot?” Ben asked, “Has that been built yet? I mean, a proper building?”

“A bit like this place, Ben. But it’s functioning and that’s the main thing. It’s several lots down from here.”

Ben nodded and after having promised to return for his goods, he left Will Cass to go and see this mail depot for himself. Hoss and Joe trailed along behind him, staying very close.

Eagle Station was certain bustling and busting at the seams. Every time the Cartwrights came down to the settlement it seemed bigger than the time before. Shanty town though it was there were signs of ‘real’ buildings getting dug out, and wagons rolled by stacked to the brim with window frames and joists. People passed them by speaking all manner of languages, arguing, shouting, laughing and cursing. It was a hotch potch of people from all nations who had come to seek their pot of gold at the end of that particular rainbow.

The Mail Depot was a rather large lean-to consisting of joists and tarpaulins, but inside there were shelves, a counter and some chairs. The young man standing behind the counter gave Ben an up and down glance before nodding,

“Ben Cartwright – Ponderosa. Am I right?”

“Yes, you are.” Ben grinned.

“I got some things here for you, sir. Parcel, letters …” he turned his back and began to rummage around all the time muttering to himself. Joe found some amusement in pressing down on the brass bell that was on the counter and hearing it ring.

“Here you are, Mr Cartwright. Just think, you’ll be able to come and collect your mail every week now.”

“Just think indeed,” Ben smiled and shook the man’s hand in welcome as well as in delight, for he had recognised his sons handwriting on the parcel and a letter. There were several other letters in more unfamiliar writing but needless to say the surge of excitement he felt at finding something from his son made him feel like he had wings on his heels.

…………………

The musical box was carefully unwrapped and placed upon the table for Hoss and Joe to look at and marvel upon.

“Why did Adam send it here?” Joe asked, lifting the lid very carefully only to hear a click and whirring sound, “It don’t play no music no more.”

“It will do,” Hoss said knowingly, “There’s a little key underneath that winds it up. Adam showed it to me.”

Ben nodded at Hoss’ appeal to him, the blue eyes and the look of anticipation were sufficient for him to know Hoss’ wish and he smiled as Hoss picked the box up very gently and wound the key.

To the accompaniment of the music Ben turned away and walked to his desk. He sat down and read the letter that Adam had written months earlier during a snowstorm.

“I leave it to you, for safe keeping, Pa, and for fond memories.” Adam had written and Ben sighed heavily, with Elizabeth there were so many fond memories, and of course, in those days, he had been a young man himself. Such fond memories. He resumed his reading and learned about Eli having left the musical box at the grave.

The music receded into some faraway place as Ben read his son’s letter, about Adam finding Eli and had chased him, the grave and the musical box. He shivered and put the letter down, even though it had ended with Adam’s assurances that all was well and there was nothing to fear.

“Is it bad news, Pa?”

He turned to see Hoss looking up at him, thoughtful and anxious. He put his hand on the boys shoulder, and smiled,

“No, it’s alright. It’s just something Adam wrote in his letter.”

“But you’ve more letters here to read yet, Pa.” and Hoss shuffled them together and smiled up at Ben as though his brother couldn’t possibly write anything that could really distress them. “Pa, didn’t that horrible man with the scar face take the musical box away?”

“Yes, but it seems he returned it to Adam.”

“Oh,” Hoss nodded sagely, “Then he wasn’t so bad after all, was he?”

Ben said nothing, he stroked back the blond hair from Hoss’ brow and told him to go and play. Then he opened another letter.

This was the letter that Adam had written from Abel’s home to tell his family that Grandfather Stoddard had died. The letter written and rewritten, until it had been sent with only the sad news of Abel’s death enclosed, the excitement of the boat trip to a frigate and what it had been like, the fact that he was going to rent the house to Mrs Grimshaw. Ben smiled, he could remember Mrs Grimshaw so well for she had clucked around Elizabeth like an old mother hen.

He opened a letter that had been written in a dark bold handwriting and was unfamiliar to him. He glanced down at the bottom of the page to see that the signature was that of one John Pickering. He paused, concentrated, and placed a face to put with the name. He then commenced reading,

“My old friend, Ben

I wonder if you can remember me from so many years ago. John Pickering who sailed with you under Captain Abel Stoddard for some years before I decided to travel west and see what excitement I could find there that the sea could not give me.

Well, Ben, a lot has happened since we last met and recently I have had the occasion to meet with your son, Adam. You can be well proud of him, Ben. If he were a son of mine I would hold him as most precious, yes, indeed.

It was my misfortune to fall in with another old ship mate of ours, Eli Prowse. I know you will remember that name as Adam tells me he brought a degree of terror into your lives four years ago. Well, he did likewise with mine. I can honestly say he destroyed our idyll. He also killed my dearest little daughter … for which he was tried and convicted but on his way to be executed two of his cousins helped him to escape.

The result of this was that he decided to avenge himself for some mad reason upon Abel Stoddard. It was just a grave misfortune that your son happened to be at Abel’s home at the time. Doubly mad he sought to kill them both, and myself too for good measure.

Thanks to your son’s stirling effort, Ben, I can tell you that Eli Prowse and all the evil he perpetuated in order to gain his ill gotten riches are ended. He was killed and his whole web of evil gone with him.

There is no cause for alarm with regard to your son. He was slightly injured, but it seems from some of the adventures he has told me he has shared with you in the past these injuries are of little account. He acquitted himself wonderfully well, Ben.

I am planning to buy Abel’s house and live there with my wife and remaining daughter. I shall make Mrs Grimshaw’s daughter an offer she cannot possibly refuse. I would like you to think of us there in what had been Elizabeth’s home and Adam’s birthplace.

God bless you, old friend.
John Pickering”

Ben re-read the letter through several times over, lingering over certain sections, imagining his son in diverse dangerous situations and longing to have been there, close by, protecting him and keeping him safe.

As he re-folded the letter Ben remembered only too well the aftermath of Eli’s visit to the Ponderosa. Marie so sad because of the loss of the baby, and then never becoming pregnant again over the course of the few years they had together. The nightmares Adam had for some time afterwards, which prompted Little Joe to create in his own imagination the worse kind of villain who would creep in to their home at night and steal and kill them all which led to his bed wetting and sleep walking. Ben sighed, and slipped the letter into his desk drawer.

The next letter was from Adam,

“Dear Pa,

Good news. I got a major in three of my subjects. Hope you are pleased? Are you well, Pa? The last letter I had from you was over a year old. I wonder what has happened to you since then and imagine the changes in Hoss and Joe. I bet they have grown some.

People here live a completely different life from back home, Pa. They ask me about what my life was like and bombard me with questions and then don’t know what to say when I answer them. It is so different and in some odd way, less honest than the life we have lived together.

One of our head boys here at the college has been expelled. He was caught in not very pleasant circumstances. It quite upset some but I hope will provide them with a lesson in life.

I have more exams later this week. I wonder when you will get this letter. It is springtime here now, primroses in flower. Inger like primroses, do you remember? I often think about our life, about the wagon trains and the people we met there. I often wonder why some people are so good and others so bad. We met some good folk, didn’t we, Pa? Thankfully, more good than bad.

I remember the smell of the prairie in Missouri when Hoss was born, and how Inger insisted on delivering that little foal. I know it led to things we’d rather it hadn’t but that was Inger, wasn’t it? So self sacrificing, even for a horse. I remember how fresh the smells were, and how clean the rivers.

Do you remember how beautiful the Ponderosa was when we first saw it? I go to sleep at night remembering that first glimpse. You and Hoss, and me just standing there looking down on that lake and seeing the sun shining down from such a blue, blue sky. The smell was just like the prairie and reminded me of Inger. I knew it would be home for us. I shall never forget that moment, Pa.

I have to go and study some more now, but it won’t be much longer before I come home. I guess I get torn at times between this life and my other life, with you all. There’s so many opportunities opening up in the engineering and architecture fields but at the same time I don’t dream about them, I just dream about home, and you, and the boys.

All my deepest respect and love
Adam

******************************************

The End.